


Playlist Amour

by 1sleepydormouse (AlderBee), AlderBee



Category: Archie Comics, Archie Comics & Related Fandoms
Genre: Emotional Sex, F/M, Oral Sex, Resolved Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-02
Updated: 2017-11-19
Packaged: 2019-01-08 06:33:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 50
Words: 109,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12248916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlderBee/pseuds/1sleepydormouse, https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlderBee/pseuds/AlderBee
Summary: Betty slowly begins to realize that there are only so many times one can have their heart broken before there are too many pieces to pick up alone. Jughead begins to understand that a constant supply of food isn't the only thing he needs in his life.This work of fanfiction was created with the comic canon in mind. There will be no Riverdale references here.Originally published on ff.net (pseudonym: elfprincesskitty)





	1. Air

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> But some how I'm still alive inside  
> You took my breath but I survived  
> I don't know how but I don't even care

Betty woke up to a dull throbbing throughout her legs. Every muscle entangled through her toes, feet, ankles, shins, thighs, and back resonated with a familiar, welcome pain, reminding her of the intense run she had endured the night before. The feel of wrinkled and stiff cotton on her thighs confirmed that she had indeed fallen asleep before changing out of her running clothes.

Again.

"Wonderful . . ." she groaned, rolling over her comforter. The digital alarm clock by her bed chose that moment to blare to life. The problem was easily solved with a well-aimed pillow, before Betty groggily climbed to her feet and removed her practice clothes.

A quick shower soothed any lingering muscle aches, and a more presentable Elizabeth Cooper emerged. Cool. Confident. Radiant. And, ready to tackle another day at Riverdale High.

Sweeping a hand over the fogged mirror, Betty took note of her damp hair, tanned skin, and clear blue eyes. A little bit of residual red stained the tender skin around her lashes, but that could be easily dealt with. On a darker day, Betty could confidently claim that she alone sustained the make-up industry with all the cover-up she used in the aftermath of an Archie-induced sob session.

But, today would not be dark.

Today would be a good day. Today would be a "Betty-Cooper-Doesn't-Give-A-Shit-About-Archie's-Infatuation-With-Ronnie" day.

With that in mind, the rejuvenated blonde beamed at the mirror. "That's right. You are beautiful and confident. Archie is an idiot, but he will see your amazing abilities as a woman, once you rock the track meet next month against Central." A touch of cover-up and a few spine-steeling swipes of mascara later, and Betty was ready for the day.

As always, dressing for comfort, the rejuvenated blond quickly slid her homework assignments into her lucky backpack along with a new change of gym clothes before making her way to the kitchen.

Looking up from a thick cooking book, Alice Cooper couldn't help but smile in ill-concealed relief as her daughter chirped a bright 'good morning.' The memories of a more distraught teenager from the night before were firmly shoved back. "How are you feeling this morning, sweetheart?"

"Back at 100 percent." Betty smiled, pulling a glass-container of Italian leftovers from the fridge. "The muscles aren't aching as much after a decent night's rest. I slept like a rock!"

Betty's subtle dodge of the inquiry on her supposed date--or lack there of--with Archie, did not escape Alice's notice, but she knew when not to pry. "You came home dead on your feet. I understand that the competition is in a few weeks, but you'll do no good for your team if you over-strain yourself."

Betty responded with an affectionate roll of the eyes. "I know my limits, Mom. I've only been running cross-country for four years. Do we have any of that left-over meatloaf? I thought I saw some yesterday . . ."

"Behind the tin of peach cobbler."

"Oooh. Peach-cobbler. Juggie would love this." Grabbing both containers, the bright teen placed them in a large blue-plaid tote along with the pasta. Knowing that her friend was more than capable of eating more, Betty decided that it was more than enough for a school lunch.

Alice chuckled at her daughter's self-satisfied look, flipping another page in her recipe book. "My, my. Your appetite sure has grown."

"Juggie has been mooching off me since the second grade, and you know it."

"And, how is our dear Forsythe?"

"Mom. You must be the only person on the planet, besides Jug's own mother, who calls him that. And, he's good." Slathering a piece of toast with sweetened pumpkin butter, Betty sat at the kitchen island with her mom. "What's with the recipe book?"

With a sigh, Alice ran her fingers through her silver-laced blond locks. "Your father is bringing a few co-workers to dinner tonight. I figured I'd whip up something other than my usual meatloaf or pot roasts."

Betty blinked. "Oh. Do you want me to come home early tonight to help?"

"Don't even consider it." Alice frowned. "I want you to have fun with your friends."

"We are only hanging out at Pop's." Betty offered, oddly not as eager to socialize as she had been earlier in the week. Feeling her mother's hands envelop hers, Betty looked up.

Moments like these, truly made Betty realize just how fortunate she was. The raw love, affection, and understanding reflected in her mother's crystal blue eyes was enough to make her want to cry and curl into her familiar comfort. Even with all the joys, stresses, and excitement she was always greeted with outside of her home, she always had the limitless support from her parents.

And for now, that was enough.

Her mother smiled. "I love you, Betty."

Holding back tears, Betty leaned over the island and pressed a kiss to her temple.

Everything was all right. So what if Archie never seemed to make it to her practices? So what if Archie canceled another date last-night?

So what if that lovable red-head and her best-friend will probably continue to break her heart in the future?

Betty prided herself on her ability to pick up the pieces and keep on going. After all, it wasn't like she was alone.

A genuine smile lit up her face. "I love you too, Mom. Thank you."

And, the moment ended on a bitter-sweet note as Betty quickly finished off her toast and threw on her backpack. "I'll see you later tonight!" Grabbing her lunch, she slipped into her tennis shoes. "Good luck with dinner!"

"Have fun as school, sweetheart."

Heartened by such a positive start to her day, Betty stepped out into the morning air and took a deep cleansing breath. As always, she looked forward to her usual 15 minute walk to school. Often, friends would pass by on their trucks and 8-year old cars, and offer her a ride. While she appreciated the gesture, she preferred to walk in the relatively serene atmosphere of a neighborhood that wasn't fully awake yet.

She vaguely wondered if Veronica would ever willingly sacrifice a ride in her father's Corvette, or the family's limousine for a nature walk to Riverdale High.

The absurdity made Betty chuckle.

Amused by her random daydreams, she never noticed the approach of another person until the lunch tote in her hand was pulled away and a familiar warmth brushed against her shoulder.

"Ooh. This has a bit of weight to it. A girl after my own heart."

And, another perk to morning walks . . .

"Good morning, Jughead."

A chocolate bar between his teeth, the taller teen snapped off a piece before giving her his customary two finger salute. "Good morning, sunshine."

Running a quick eye over his slightly disheveled red, t-shirt and jeans, Betty smiled. "You are up earlier. We usually meet up half-way."

"Eh." He shrugged, slinging the lunch bag over his shoulder. "Jellybean has a cold, so she woke everyone up at some crazy hour this morning. Mom's taking her in for a check up."

"Poor, Jelly. I hope she feels better soon." Betty remembered that it had been about a week since she had seen the little girl, and made a mental note to visit soon.

"Me, too." He snorted, biting off more chocolate. "I need my sleep. How else am I going to digest my daily intake in peace?"

Betty's laugh laced through the air around them as she looped her arm around his. Despite his penchant to to laze about, Jughead was actually the reluctant owner of a muscular body. She was initially shocked to discover in freshman year that her male companion was literally wrapped in lean muscle. He performed relatively average in gym class, which left her to ponder why Jughead possessed the body of a seasoned swimmer. Any inquireries on her part were always met with a lazy shrug or a grin.

To this day, Betty remained in the dark, but she didn't mind too much. Enjoying the feel of shifting muscles under her touch, she sighed at the comfort of having him here with her and in her life.

Jughead snorted. "What is it with you and molesting my arm?"

Betty closed her eyes with a smile. "That's what you get for being so damn reliable."

* * *

 

[Word Count: 1,391]

 


	2. Peaches

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I've been counting up all my wrongs  
> One sorry for each star  
> I'd apologize my way to you  
> If the heaven's stretched that far

Running his tongue along his teeth, Jughead sat in a comfortable slump at his desk as Miss Grundy stood at the head of the class room, giving them a lecture on the various repercussions of the Civil War. The exact same lecture every student has endured once a year for the past six years.

He refrained from out-right snoring in the middle of the lecture only because he liked Miss Grundy. Repetitive lectures aside. After all, wasn't it some prerequisite for all school teachers to be boring (or at least lacking in personality)?

"Hey, Jug." Archie reached across the space between their desks and tapped his forearm. All smile and barely contained joy, the red-head pointed towards his wrist-watch. "You gonna be at Pop's tonight, buddy?"

Jughead quirked an eyebrow in what he hoped was a sarcastic manner. "Am I ever not at Pop's?"

Rolling his eyes at the familiar jab, Archie shifted closer. "Well, no. But, this is the first time in almost a month that I've managed to get the whole gang together."

Jughead wasn't one for socializing, but he had to admit that he did miss seeing everyone together. While he could do without extended time in Reggie and Veronica's combined presence, he found himself grinning back. "You know I'll be there, Arch. How have Ronnie and the other's been?"

Archie immediately perked up at the sound of the brunette's name, and Jughead had to smile at the pure admiration his best friend had for the rich beauty. It was naive and slightly perverted . . . which was something that only the red-head could seem to pull off.

"Veronica has been chosen to model the summer collection at teh new boutique at the mall." He chuckled. "She's so worked up about impressing everyone, that she's been preparing by modeling for me!" Archie literally drooled at the memories.

"A dream come true for you, eh?"

Blushing as he snapped out of his day dream, Archie grinned sheepishly. "I'm tellin' ya, Jug. You have no idea how much Ronnie affects me. Heck, she could blink at me with those long lashes and I'm lost. Lost! She's such an amazing girl."

"I'm sure." Jughead snorted, suddenly craving a cheeseburger covered in cheese and chilli. Or, maybe some meatloaf, pasta, and peach cobbler. His stomach grumbled at the thought of lunch.

As if somehow catching onto Jughead's thoughts, Archie propped his elbow on his desk and directed this gaze on the back of Betty's head. The blond in question was simultaneously taking notes on the lecture and passing notes to Veronica. "Bets has been busy, too. Which I guess is understandable considering the track meet with Central High commin' up."

Jughead shrugged. "Betty seems as cool as a cucumber. She'll rock the meet."

"Oh, I have no doubts." Archie agreed. "All she ever seems to do is run nowadays." Frowning slightly, he rubbed the back of his neck. "I was going to see one of her practice runs last night, but Ronnie needed me."

Blinking, Jughead finally dragged his eyes from the tiled ceiling, and stared at his friend. "What? You canceled another date with Betty?"

Archie re-directed his gaze from Betty's back to the worn surface of his desk. "It wasn't exactly a date. I was just going there to cheer her on."

"Arch." Jughead frowned, never comfortable with his friend's continual disregard for Betty's feelings. "You know what you mean to her. God knows why she's head-over-heels in love with you. It was probably important for you to be there for her." Much like how you are there for Veronica, went unspoken.

"I know, I know."Archie groaned, genuinely guilt-ridden. "I feel crappy about it but . . . but," he glanced imploringly at his friend. "don't you know how hard it is to say 'no' to Ron?"

"No." the long-nosed teen, snorted. "But, apparently, it's a breeze for you to say it to Betty."

Flinching, Archie scratched at a pencil mark on the desk. "It's different . . . Bets is more understanding than Ron."

Weighing the consequences of smacking his best friend in the head with his history text, Jughead shook his head. "She deserves better than that, and you know it."

Archie's constant volley between Betty and Veronica was a concept beyond his understanding, despite being exposed to it since childhood. Sure, Veronica had money and looks, but that wasn' enough to make a man happy. Betty may not be rich, but she was beautiful, talented and an awesome cook. How could a man not think about proposing the minute after he took a bite of her Chicken Cacciatore? Ronnie's looks could make any male bend to her will, but Betty's home-made Oreo cheesecake could break any man. And, if that didn't, then her smile and sharp wit could finish the job. To Jughead, the choice between the two young women was a no-brainer.

So, why was this such an enigma in his buddy's life?

Oh, wait. This was Archie.

No duh.

The guy was born for women problems. A modern-day Romeo.

Once again, Jughead found himself glad that he was practically A-sexual.

"I know, I know." Archie grumbled, slightly guilt ridden. "Hey, you were with Bets this morning. How was she?"

Leaning back in his seat, Jughead glanced at Betty just as she giggled behind her hand at something Veronica whispered in her ear. Had their blond friend acted any different that morning?

Well, she had seemed lost in thought before he approached her. However, that could be easily blamed on early-morning drowsiness or even by Betty's continuously active mind. She packed a large lunch for them to share, gave him her usual smiles and greetings, and dressed in a pair of comfortable-looking jeans and a spring cardigan. Usual Betty-esque things. But, considering Archie's blunder the night before, the blond's lack of any reaction was definitely out of the ordinary. Betty had no qualms about bouncing her woes off Jughead, and while it was unpleasant, he didn't mind helping Betty clear her head. All he had to do was hum and nod at the right places.

It helped that her voice didn't screech or grate or fluctuate at high-decibel pitches.

"Uh, Jug?"

"Hm?"

"Betty?"

Remembering the original question, Jughead shrugged. "Her usual cheery self." He re-slumped in his seat. "Maybe she's getting over you."

For a moment, Archie looked like someone had punched him in the gut. "No way . . ."

Jughead didn't bother to reply.

He imagined a tin of warm peach-cobbler as he absently scratched his arm.

* * *

 

Mouth full of meatloaf, smothered in gravy and coriander, Jughead watched on as Betty and Dilton compared their graded math quizzes on the other side of the lunch table. Unsurprisingly, the three of them scored the highest. The two across from him were only a few points shy of a perfect score, which quickly degenerated their lunch to an all-out nerd-a-thon. Amused, Jughead sat back and watched as the duo tried to correctly integrate (2+tanx)2dx.

Betty groaned. "Gah! We did this stupid problem a billion times in class. How the hell did I mess up?"

"You used the wrong antiderivative rule." Dilton pointed out with his pen. "Other than that, you executed the problem correctly."

"Crap. I was stuck between using rule 5 or 7."

Jughead smirked at the irritable flush covering her face and neck as he handed her a fry from his tray. She shoveled it into her mouth without sparing him a glance. "I hate calculus."

Jughead let her take out her frustration on a few more of his fries.

Finishing up another problem, Dilton gathered his notes. "I'm going to go over this last equation with Professor Flutesnoot. I'm almost positive that there is an easier way to figure out where the derivative changes . . ."

"You do that," Betty sighed. She closed her notebook with a snap. "I'm done."

After quickly adjusting his glasses, the school genius wished them a good day and made his way through the crowd.

"I wonder how he does it."

Pulled out of his musings, Jughead turned to find Betty plucking at the spiral binding of her notebook. "Dilton?"

She nodded, giving him an exasperated smile. "My brain would explode with the amount of academia he absorbs."

Jughead thoughtfully arched a brow before shoveling another helping of pasta into his mouth. He answered after swallowing. "Dilton is one of a kind. Too many of his kind might be too much for this school to handle."

Betty laughed. "Says the guy who passes through all of his classes by sleeping through them."

"To each his own," he smirked. Refocusing on his meal, he let himself enjoy the secret blends of seasonings and spices that Betty had discovered in the kitchen. Habit gripped him without a second thought, his eyes closing almost entirely, as he focused all of his senses on the flavors dancing on his tongue.

Pepper. Cumin. Paprika. Garlic. Tomatoes. Onion.

Cinnamon.

Betty's signature spice.

Thoughts of his female companion, prompted him to open his eyes. Like himself, Betty had settled into their companionable silence, her eyes scanning the notes for her next class. Her teeth worried her lower lip as her hand left a line of doodles along the edge of her paper.

Frowning, he nudged the the pasta towards her. "You should eat."

Betty didn't argue, picking up a plastic fork before spearing a few spirals of pasta. "I'm not very hungry."

"You should still eat. Lunch is the most important meal of the day."

"I thought that was breakfast?"

"It is. But, so is lunch, dinner, dessert, mid-morning snack, afternoon snack, and the ever important midnight snack."

Laughing, Betty nibbled on a noodle. "Well, not to refute your authority on fasting, but I don't think my metabolism could handle it." She tilted her head to the side with a smile. "Especially with your portions."

"You are just jealous."

"But, of course."

Polishing off the pasta, Jughead opened the tin of peach cobbler. "At least eat some of this." The scent of fresh fruit and flakey-buttery pastry surrounded them, making the teen nearly melt in euphoria. "This is a god-send."

"I know," she smirked, scooping out a bit of peach filling.

One bite, and Jughead knew he could die right at that moment and die happy. "Amazing . . ."

Betty's amused laughter just made it taste sweeter. "You are too much, Juggie."

Jughead let his enthusiastic devouring of the desert speak for him.

"Hey, Jug?"

"Hm?"

There was a hesitant pause. "I'm going to run on the track for a bit before we all meet at Pop's. Could you come?"

Fork in mouth, he looked up to see a light dusting of melancholy over Betty's usually bright form. Struck by how wrong the blond looked when she wasn't smiling, Jughead reached out and covered her free hand with his. "You know I'll be there, Bets."

She smiled and the world was right again.

"Thank you, Juggie."

Her laughter was blinding.

* * *

 

[Word Count: 1,840]


	3. Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello from the world below  
> I'm watching the sun burning  
> as the road is slowly turning

Muscles loose from a lengthy warm-up, Betty took a deep breath of fresh air, the impending humidity clinging to the back of her neck. Feeling oddly light, she positioned herself at the track's starting line. The white line of paint at the toe of her sneakers was a familiar sight.

Like home.

She slowly bent over into a starting position, her blue eyes glancing off to the side where Jughead sat at the bleachers. The male in question had half a hot dog shoved in his mouth, and a small blue flag waving lazily in his left hand. While his cheering seemed half-hearted at best, it was so characteristically Jug. And, refreshingly reliable.

Which isn't as much as she could say about a certain red-head.

A certain unreliable red-head.

A certain cute unreliable red-

Betty shook her head to interrupt that stray thought. Archie was a distraction she couldn't afford to indulge in at the moment. That could be saved for later, once she holed herself in her room with the remaining pint of strawberry ice cream.

In position, Betty tensed her muscles and breathed in two-second intervals. Counting down in her head, her blue eyes narrowed on the track before her. Any thoughts that plagued her throughout the day dissolved out of focus. All that mattered was the beginning of the track and the twelve laps to the end.

Five . . . four . . . three . . .

Her vision narrowed.

Two . . .

One.

With a snap, Betty surged forward, each muscle and limb moving with a familiar liquid pattern.

Tennis shoes pounded the rubber texture of the track, each stride short and powerful as she tried to gain speed.

The blond strands of her pony-tail swung in time with her movements as she focused her entire first lap on gaining a starting position against her phantom opponents. While long distance track wasn't a problem for her, Betty's true abilities were in the 200m sprint. She was addicted to the quick mix of adrenaline, speed, and the almost primal fight to reach the end first.

When one of the long-distance runners for Riverdale dropped out due to a fractured ankle, Betty was more than happy to fill the spot as a replacement.

Unconsciously, her stride lengthened and her speed evened out, forcing herself to keep an even tempo for the remainder of the laps.

Conserve, conserve, conserve.

They can eat my dust on the final lap, she proclaimed to herself.

"Lookin' good, Betty! Lookin' good!"

Redirecting her gaze to the bleachers, Betty smiled at the sight of another red-head she held near and dear. Wrapped in the stylishly preppy Pembrooke uniform, Cheryl Blossom waved a small gold flag in her hand as she performed some modified cheer routines next to a less than enthusiastic Jughead.

If Betty could spare the breath to laugh at the scene, she would have.

"Come on, you lazy glutton!" Cheryl demanded loud enough for the blond to here. "Let's cheer Bets on!"

Jughead's response wasn't as loud, but Betty could imagine his easy dismissal of Cheryl's demands. This was punctuated by a handful of chips being shoved into his mouth.

Chery'l cheers and insistence for enthusiasm, provided plenty of entertainment as Betty coasted through the rest of her laps and sprinted towards the finish line. Heart pounding and lungs burning, she hunched over with her hands cupping her bare knees. Heat simmered under her skin as she walked in a lose circle, shaking out her tired muscles.

Jughead and Cheryl were both standing by the chain-link fence as Betty walked up to them. Jughead waved a silver stop-watch and gave her her time with a smile. Betty beamed. Three seconds shorter than her last run.

Cheryl was all smiles. "If you weren't all sweaty, I'd give you a hug, Bets! You looked great!"

The blond wiped her face with a gym towel before thanking Jughead for an offered water-bottle. "Thanks. What are you doing in Riverdale?"

Manicured nails lifted what looked like a brand-new Algebra book . . . which was impossible since the semester was almost half-way over. "Study date with Dilly."

Jughead snorted at that. "That book looks like it has never been cracked open."

Cheryl just grinned. "Ah! But, it serves it's purpose. I can't outright call it a date without tarnishing Dilly's status as a nerd. It's part of what makes him so lovable."

Betty chuckled while Jughead just frowned. "Just make sure you aren't using the poor guy for your own dastardly female agenda."

"Your concern is duly noted," Cheryl rolled her eyes before refocusing on Betty. "I was just on my way and happened to see you on the track. Figured you needed a friendly face."

"I was here." Jughead interjected.

"It's always great to see you," Betty smiled after taking another swig of water. She was more than aware of her two friends' clashing personalities and figured it was a good time to get between them before they really got into throwing insults at each other. The blond smiled. Irritating each other seemed to be the only was for Jug and Cher to express their odd friendship.

If one could call it that.

"Oh! And, I'll totally be here when you crush Central at the meet." Cheryl smirked. "I've got my poster ready and everything for it."

Betty's heart warmed at the support, suddenly overwhelmed with the need to hug the red-head. "I really appreciate it, Cheryl. Thank you so much."

Cheryl returned the smile before grabbing her leather messenger bag. "Wouldn't miss it for the world! Oh! And, before I forget." Reaching into her bag, she pulled out a small porcelain container and shoved it into Betty's unsuspecting hands. "This is for all that blotchy redness you get on your face after running. I can't imagine how horrible it is to exert yourself so much that it causes such violent blemishes!" She winked. "Just a little bit of this will clear it right up, hun."

Betty affectionately rolled her eyes at the misplaced concern. "Thanks."

"Ta-ta!" The red-head blew a kiss at the scowling Jughead before retreating to her convertible.

As if over-whelmed by exasperation, Jughead poured the rest of the chips into his mouth before crushing the empty bag. "I don't know how you stand that crazy woman."

"Her heart is in the right place." Betty chuckled, unscrewing the ceramic top of the cream and taking a whiff. "Hmm. Lavender." The container was unlabeled, but Betty didn't have to see the label (that Cheryl probably pulled off before-hand) to know that it cost a pretty penny.

Having rich friends had it's perks sometimes.

Plopping back down on the bench, Jughead leaned back on his elbows. "Dilton and Cheryl. How did that happen?"

Betty took a seat next to him, loosening her hair from its pony tail. "Those two actually have more in common than you'd think. Despite their glaring differences."

"Alike?" Jughead asked, digging in his backpack for a granola bar he vaguely remembered stealing from Archie earlier.

Betty closed her eyes as a cool wind picked up, soothing her inflamed cheeks. "Yeah. Like, despite the whole 'study date' fiasco, they both excel at math. And, they share a love for online video games." She chuckled. "Cheryl is always trying to get me into that kind of stuff."

"Hmm." Finding the bar, Jughead split it in two and gave half to Betty. "I guess I'll never understand the mysteries of women and love-sick men."

Betty gave him a knowing look. "Just wait, Juggie. One day, you'll find a girl you can't live without. Then, it won't be as much of a mystery as an unexplainable phenomenon."

"That'll be the day."

And, sitting on the bench, with Jughead's arm against hers, Betty wondered why she was secretly dreading that day.

. . . Just a little.

* * *

 

[Word Count: 1,315]


	4. Bugs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I get the feeling everyone's feeling the same  
> Like somebody somewhere should be calling their name  
> Praying in churches or out in the club  
> Everyone's looking, looking for love

"Are you kidding me? How the hell did you get the latest version? I know for a fact that 'Exit Mayday' doesn't hit the shelves until next month!"

With natural grace and arrogance, Reggie Mantle brushed imaginary lint from his oxford shirt. "There is no 'next month' for this guy. Seriously, Arch. When are you going to get it through your thick skull that I am not to be grouped with the rest of you commoners?"

"You fall off that high-horse of yours enough times, to be considered lessthen us stable commoners." Archie rolled his eyes.

Sputtering on an intake of milkshake, Reggie looked ridiculously affronted.

Jughead mourned the milkshake that was now un-moochable due to Reggie's spittle. Systematically demolishing his way through a large order of chili fries, he kept an ear on the two different conversations dominating their circular table. Midge, Betty, and Veronica conversed over a large sundae smothered in mixed fruits and chocolate chips. Unsurprisingly, the conversation there was focused on Ronnie's recent modeling gig, leaving Jug to find familiarity on the predominately male side of the table.

Exit Mayday sounded like an interesting enough game, anyway. He contemplated bribing Dilton to download it for a test run.

Betty shifted in the seat beside him, commenting on something about eyes and complementary colors. The scent of lavender laced through the smog of chili, making his thoughts derail.

When it came to flavors, scents, and food in general, Jughead lacked any prejudices. anything that was humanly digestable was free reign as long as Jughead was concerned. It's how he managed to eat (and enjoy) the cafeteria lunches at school. It's how he managed to eat the month-past-expired tin of swiss sausages in the back corner of the pantry.

It's a well known fact that Jughead can stand just about anything.

But, this odd flowery smell was less than pleasing. The fru-fru flower smell brought Cheryl to mind, which wasn't pleasant at all.

For all her riches, the red-head was a horrible cook.

Wrinkling his nose, Jughead polished off the rest of the fries.

"Hey, you bottomless pit!" Reggie growled. "I ordered that for the whole table!"

Archie chuckled, throwing an arm over his long-nosed buddy. "You know better than to leave Jug unsupervised with anything from Pop's!" Climbing to his feet, he pulled his wallet from his back pocket. "I"ll get the next round of chili fries."

"Ooh, Archie-kins!" Veronica smiled, "Be a dear and get us two cups of the light lemonade. Midge and and I are hopelessly addicted to the stuff."

"Sure." Archie beamed, more than happy to provided the beautiful brunette with anything she wanted. He turned to Betty to see if she had a request, when Reggie pulled out his own wallet with overexagerated flourish.

"Now, now, ladies. There is no reason to break the Bank of Archie. Your drinks are on moi."

"To hell it is!" Archie interjected hotly. "I said I could handle it!"

"Oh please, knuckle-head. Stop, you're embarrassing yourself."

And, the two men lunged for the cashier, both equally eager to impress the fairer sex.

Jughead (who always seemed to benefit from these testosterone-filled skirmishes) looked forward to more fries as he turned to find Betty idly stirring her silver spoon in the melting ice cream. "You want anything? Arch's treat."

Blue eyes started as Betty pulled out of her thoughts and smiled at him. "No thanks. This ice cream is plenty."

"Ya done with it?"

Without further prompting, Betty slid the glass bowl towards him. "Be my guest. The girls are finished with it."

With Margie and Veronica now focused on their own conversation, Betty was no longer angled against him, which would have been all fine and dandy if not for that flower smell. The scent hung heavier as the blond unconsciously fanned the heated skin of her neck. Sweat condensed and slicked against her skin.

Jughead found the sight oddly hypnotic before looking away.

"How is that cream working for you?"

"Hm?"

Jughead couldn't help a smile. "Zone out much?"

Betty smiled through the light blush staining her cheeks. "Sorry. There's just . . . a lot to think about."

"Don't tell me you are already worried about college applications and career paths. Is that what you've been thinking about all day?"

"Hey! I'm not that paranoid." Betty chuckled, lightly punching him in the arm. "Give me some credit."

Finishing up the last bit of strawberry, Jughead leaned back. "So what is it then?"

Instead of answering, Betty's smile softened, her hand reaching out to pat his before pulling away as Archie and Reggie approached the table with drinks and more fries.

While Jughead felt his attention immediately draw towards the steamy-cheesiness of the plate of chili-fries, he managed to keep an eye on Betty as Archie passed her a cup of lemonade. As expected, the blond's blue eyes lit up as Archie handed her the drink. She thanked him and the red-head returned a grin before turning his blushing, boyish charm on Veronica.

Jughead's interest was suddenly piqued to find a distinct lack of pink on Betty's cheeks. Instead, the young woman simply wrapped her hands loosely around the cup before turning back to him with a carefree shrug. "Just about tomorrow."

Jughead blinked. "What?"

Betty laughed. "Now look at who's letting their mind wander."

He wrinkled his nose before snagging a fry. "You must be rubbing off on me, Bets."

"Oh, please. You wouldbe lucky enough to get half of my busy-bee mind." Using a fork, she speared a cheesy bundle of fries. "There is already enough brilliance in that head of yours."

"Hm." Jughead finished a mouthful of chili before stealing a sip of Betty's lemonade. He decided to turn the conversation back around. "Tomorrows?"

"Tomorrows." Betty nodded, a golden lock brushing her cheek. "And, change."

Jughead gave her his trademark lazy-smirk. "For the better, I hope?"

Suddenly, those clear blue eyes filled his vision as she focused only on him and for a moment, Jughead forgot about chili-fries, smelly creams, and bees.

"Ask me that question tomorrow."


	5. Coffee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If I find in myself desires  
> nothing in this world can satisfy,  
> I can only conclude that I  
> was not made for here.

It was a habit.

And, a bad habit at that (she has to keep reminding herself of this fact).

Habits can be kicked.

Smokers quit smoking.

Alcoholics quit drinking.

Her twelve year-old cousin quit Pokemon.

Betty could quit Archie.

At least, she could try.

She could at least quit picturing him as prince charming [which he most definitely is not].

Whenever Archie smiles, think of Veronica. When Archie laughs, think of Veronica kissing Archie. When Archie compliments her hair, think of Veronica feeding Archie French scones. In a designer bikini worth more than Betty could conceive for a scrap of shimmery fabric.

Which Ronnie could don like an Egyptian queen.

Hell, Veronica could look good in freaking seaweed.

Naturally, this led Betty to imagine her best friend in a gown composed of green and brown seaweed and shells, before she could derail the thought and dropped her forehead onto the hard surface of her desk.

Bad mental tangent.

Bad.

Then again . . . maybe it was working? Nothing made Archie more unattractive than when he was making goo-goo eyes at her best friend . . .

"Honey?"

Not bothering to lift her head, Betty rolled her head side-ways to smile at her mom. "Yes?"

Alice Cooper seemed unsure of the sight of her daughter nesting herself upon a desk covered in math work sheets. Her fingers vacantly shifted the plate of sliced mangoes in her hand. "Do I want to know?"

"What's to know? I'm attempting to learn the secrets of Trig through osmosis."

This caused the desired effect, making Betty's mother chuckle as she walked in the room to draw the curtains over the night-scape outside. "And, how is that working for you?"

"As me that tomorrow after I get through class." Sitting up, Betty brightened. "Are those mangoes?"

"A pre-bed snack," her mother smiled before setting the plate down. "How was Pop's?"

"Same old." Betty popped a slice of mango in her mouth and nearly melted as the sweet tart-ness of the fruit engulfed her taste buds. Maybe she should think about mangoes from now on. 24/7. "Archie and Reggie treated everyone to ice cream and chili fries. Did you know that Ronnie is going to be the new face of Moxilla Outfiters? It's that new shop at the mall. Lots of fun retro stuff."

"Well, that's nice. I explains why we haven't seen much of her lately."

Oh, but Archie has seen tons of her the last few days.

Crap, crap.

No Archie thoughts.

Betty mentally kicked herself. "Ronnie said she could get me some of their stuff at a discount. Says she has the connections."

"That's very nice of her."

"It is." Betty reluctantly smiled. She could tell that Veronica was feeling slightly remorseful about hogging all of Archie's attention as of late. It's not like she could help it. Lodges were competitive by nature.

Besides, who was Betty to turn down a shopping spree funded by Veronica's credit card? Despite their clashing interests, they were still best friends.

Veronica was just . . . better apparently.

Damn. There she went again.

Habits sucked.

"Mom?"

"Yes, dear?" The older woman set about brushing out the few wrinkles in Betty's bedsheets.

"Remember a few years back when you were taking a few college classes at night for your business degree?"

Betty's mother blinked at the seemingly random question. "Ah, yes. My minor foray into a home-based business. What about it?"

The teen grinned. "You drank bucket-fulls of coffee back then. That's all I seem to remember. You were a nervous wreck."

Alice laughed. "Your father thought I was a woman possessed! That, my dear, is what a caffeine addiction does to you."

Pushing the empty plate away from her, Betty turned towards her mom. "You don't drink coffee anymore. That I've noticed, at least. How did you stop?" Vaguely, she wanted to kick herself for being so pathetic as to go to her mom for help.

With a freaking metaphor.

Sheesh.

How low can you go?

"Substitution." Her mother answered.

"What?"

She gave a knowing smile. "I still have my caffeine fix to get through the day. I haven't given it up. I just get it through a healthier medium."

Betty wondered what her mother managed to slip undetected into her casseroles. Crushed coffee-beans would surely still be detectable in a green bean casserole.

"I drink tea now."

"Tea? Since when?"

Alice placed a finger on her chin in thought. "Usually mid-day. When you are usually at school or practice. Green tea or Early Grey with a little bit of milk does wonders for my energy. And, it doesn't wreak havoc on my nerves like coffee does."

Baffled by this relatively . . . zen-side of her mother, Betty sat back. Her heart fell just a little. "So . . . you never got over your addiction."

"I think addiction is a negative way to look at it." Moving to stand by her daughter, she ran a soothing hand through Betty's hair. "Most people need a small dose of caffeine or sugar to function properly. After all, we must provide it the nutrients and boosts it needs so that we remain healthy. "I'll admit that my year-long coffee diet was doing me more harm than good, but I learned." She chuckled. "My health is better for it."

Taking her mother's hand, Betty smiled. "Yeah, yeah. It's just weird imaging you sitting with a china cup of herbal tea. You going to start meditating, too?"

"Now, that's enough from you, young lady." Alice smirked at the half-hearted jab. "Get your work done and try to get to sleep at a decent time. You need your rest."

"Yes, mom." Betty chuckled as her mother dropped a kiss on her forehead before taking the empty plate and retreating back to the kitchen.

Buckling back down, Betty spent all of ten minutes focusing on her homework before her mind began racing elsewhere. Blue eyes drifting to the heavily decorated wall against her desk, she felt her heart and head ease at the various photos and Riverdale High paraphenalia. Shades of gold and blue framed her photographs of friends and family. Habit or not, she smiled at the images of Archie at homecoming, his arm around her shoulder. Archie at football practice. Archie with the guys. Archie with the girls.

Rolling her eyes, she sighed. Stupid, lovable, Archie Andrews.

As thoughts of the red-head slowly faded back, the smile failed to fall from her lips as she persued the other familiar faces on her wall: frozen memories she held near and dear to her heart.

And, she loved every single one of them.

As much unnecessary excitement they brought her, she couldn't imagine a happier life without them.

"Substitute . . . hm . . ."

Was it even possible?

"Earth to Betty."

Pulled from uncharted thoughts, Betty jumped as none other than Jughead Jones sauntered uninvited into her room and plopped down on her bed. It took her a moment to take in the bizarrely odd sight of Jughead relaxing on her bed ten o'clock at night, which gave the male enough time to make himself comfortable with a plate of what looked like dinner left-overs.

Apparently, he was well received by her mother, Betty snorted to herself, before turning towards her gluttonous intruder. "Why yes, Juggie. Please feel free to make yourself comfortable. Is there anything else I can do to for you?"

"You can get your mom to stop calling me by that accursed name."

"No dice there, hon." She chuckled. "She's gossip-buddies with your mom, remember?"

"Oh, well. Then, no. I'm pretty comfortable, thanks."

Typical male response. Rolling her eyes, the blond began putting her math homework up. "Isn't Archie's your usual late-night hangout?"

Jughead wrinkled his nose. "I needed a quick get away and your house is closer. And, is usually very generous with food products." He lifted the half-empty plate of left-overs to emphasize his point.

"Escape?"

"Uncle Herman is in town." He cringed. "I think he might have left his medication at home. He's on a mad scientist spree. Again."

"Nightmarish." Betty agreed, chuckling as she flipped her desk light off and stretched the kinks out of her spine. Clad in an aged rib-tank and baggy sweats, she relocated to the edge of her bed.

Jughead pointed his fork at her. "You can brush it off, sunshine. Yourfamily is normal. Why was I born in the one that had to have it's own Dr. Frankenstein?"

"Luck?" Betty laughed as he frowned at her, taking his empty plate and setting it at her bedside table. "All right, all right. I was kidding, Juggie." She placed a hand on his jean-clad knee before offering him a genuine smile. "You know you are welcome anytime. And, you can stay as long as you want."

Framed by her primarily purple pillows, Jughead threw a thoughtful glance around the room. "Got any sustenance stashed in here?"

"I will from now on," Betty mumbled. She wished that Jughead would have at least called ahead so that she could at least prepare for him. A stash of chips and granola bars would have been her first call of action.

"Ah, well." He shrugged, snatching a random book off of the nearby lamp stand. "Let's see how long your mom's cooking lasts me."

As Jughead flipped the book open-one of Betty's favorite poem books-she soaked in the image of one of her best male friends relaxing comfortably in her bedroom.

The very first guy she ever had in her own bed.

And, she was totally fine with it.

Unable to imagine replicating this laid-back comfort with Archie in her bed, Betty was suddenly overwhelmed with giddiness.

It was odd, scary, and absolutely high-inducing.

She smiled. "I guess I better enjoy it while it lasts."

"Hm?" Jughead didn't bother looking up from the book.

"Nothing!" she chimed, before grabbing a fleece blanket and wrapping it around herself. Shifting onto the bed, she snuggled into Jughead's side. He seemed to be ignorant of her blatant invasion of his personal space, unconciously stretching out his arm to offer more comfort. Betty snagged the offer, resting her suddenly heavy head on his shoulder and wrapping an arm around his mid-section. Her living teddy-bear radiated heat and solidarity and for the first time that week, her brain came to a comforting stand-still.

All she was aware of was two heartbeats, Juggie's natural cologne of fried foods, and the feeling of whole and complete masculine comfort.

Betty fell into a dream of turning pages and coffee kisses.

-/-

[Word Count: 1,431]


	6. Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A dark congregation of familiar faces  
> gathered around the quiet earth.  
> A red rose fell upon the soft snow,  
> prayers whispered so slow from our mouths.

Allowing Jellybean to pull him along the currents of people at the Riverdale mall, Jughead wondered if he ever possessed the amount of energy his litter sister seemed to expend in ridiculous quantities. Yes, he loved the little five-year old to death, but his mom owed him a freaking freaking feast once his babysitting duties ended for the day.

He glanced at the miniature clock tower in the mall's fountain. Four more hours.

He needed chocolate cake.

"Come on, come on!" Jellybean tugged insistently at his abused arm, in an attempt to get him moving faster. "Build-A-Pal is gonna close!"

"I'm pretty sure that your store will not close in the middle of the day. It's not even lunch time."

His stomach growled at the reminder.

"Come on, come on, come on! You promised."

There was absolutely no way he was like this at age five.

After an agonizing run through the food court, Jellybean finally released his arm and ran into the already crowded Build-A-Pal Workshop. Jughead rolled his wrist a few times before shoving his hands into his pockets and following in his sister's sugar-coated wake.

Just like every other day of the week, Build-A-Pal was filled with little girls accompanied by their mothers, sisters, or grand-mothers. To appeal to the younger masses, the interior of teh shop imitated a larger-than-life doll house. The furniture, windows, kitchen, dining room, and den were all decked out in bright yellows, pinks, greens, and blues. Each room in the "doll house" held a station, where the kids could visit to progressively build their Pal.

Jellybean stood in the laundry room, digging through the un-stuffed Pals. Jughead found it oddly macabre to have kids digging around stuffed animal skins.

"Jug!" She snagged his wandering mind to hold up the fuzzy skins of a blueberry bear and a vanilla rabbit for his scrutiny. "I like both of these and I can't choose!"

Squatting down, he looked between the two. "Well, I'm under strict orders from the mother ship to get you one Pal. Not two." One couldn't be too greatly rewarded for an "A" one one simple spelling test.

The five-year old pondered this life-altering decision. "Well . . . I like blue . . ."

"Then lets go with the bear."

"But, I like rabbits, too."

This was a dark day, indeed.

After a fruitless scan of the bins for a blue rabbit, Jughead looked around the store. "How about getting the rabbit and dressing her up in something blue?"

Jellybean brightened at the compromise. "Ok!"

Deflated rabbit in hand, both walked onto the "kitchen," where a young woman stood by a large stuffing machine. Jelly immediately warmed up to the Pal Stuffer, telling her about the super hard spelling test she aced, which resulted in her older brother bringing her in to get her reward. A plush heart, patterned with yellow stars was then selected and placed in the Pal before the employee expertly stuffed and plumped the doll into its ultimately snuggable form.

It no longer disturbed Jughead to look at Jellybean hold the rabbit.

The Pal Stuffer smiled as she expertly sealed the doll. "All right, Sweety. Remember, now that this little guy has a heart, it's your friend forever. Can we trust you to take good care of this Pal?"

Something akin to reverence shone on Jellybean's face as she clutched the rabbit to her chest. "Oh, yes!" she promised, "She will be just like a part of the family. Right, Jughead?"

Luckily, Jughead's ability to zone-out included the ability to selectively hear important conversational cues. "Of course," he smiled.

"Let's dress her up!" Jellybean cheered, her braids swinging against the thick straps of her summer dress.

Amused by her instant love for the stuffed animal, Jughead followed his little sister to a "bedroom," an area lined with labeled dresser drawers. He skimmed a few of the choices, noticing how Jellybean ignored all the pants, shirts, suits, and jumpers for a whole section of dresses. Typical.

"You are such a girl."

"So is she," Jellybean lifted her Pal.

"Ah." Stomach grumbling, Jughead began to contemplate the merits of ditching his sister for a quick snack bar run. The hotdog stand was so close.

A kid ran by with an ice cream cone.

His strength waned a bit.

"Jellybean . . ."

"This takes time, dummy. Don't hurry me." Turning away from the drawer, she pushed the rabbit into his unsuspecting hands. "You hold her while I choose."

He blinked. "W-what? You hold it. It's your doll!"

"Her!" she glared. "It is a delicious decision." She frowned. "Delic-Diffi-Dee . . . dee . . ."

Jughead smirked. "Delicate."

"Delicate," she nodded with five-year old grace. "It's a delicate decision, so let me focus."

Put in his place, the teen plopped into a sunshine yellow bean bag and moped under a cloud of hunger. Jellybean's bunny Pal perched comfortably over his stomach. "Sheesh. Take your time."

"You get grumpy when you are hungry, big brother," she commented, her back to him and elbow deep in dresses.

Jughead wondered how his impressionable little sister became so much like . . . Veronica. The thought made him shudder. But, no less hungry.

And, so, Jughead endured his hunger (and boredom) for ten relatively excruciating minutes. Acutely aware of his minority status, he attempted to pass the entire time in a power nap. If not to hurry the moment, then to ignore that all of the amused glances thrown his way.

Why could his mom bring Jellybean again?

"I found it!" Jellybean declared, hoisting her prize up for him to see.

He was vaguely surprised to see a blue cheer leading dress in her hands. Jughead couldn't claim any degree of understanding of the female psyche, but he had expected something more . . . princess-y. "Uh . . . you sure?"

She nodded, extremely happy with her choice. She quickly took her Pal in hand and began to dress her. "This is the best color blue."

"I thought you were leaning more towards something with more frills."

"Cheer girls are pretty!"

"And, how many cheerleaders do you know?"

"Betty's a cheerleader and she's really pretty. And nice."

Jughead just barely managed to stop himself from smacking his forehead. With Betty focusing on her running lately, he had completely forgotten her occasional cheering gigs. "Ah. That's right."

"And she always likes to have a tea party with me whenever she visits," Jellybean continued. Clipping a bow around one of the rabbit's floppy ears, she presented the new and improved Pal. "Doesn't she look pretty?"

Jughead wondered how Betty would react if she found out that his sister had designed a doll with her in mind. He chuckled. Finally. Something amusing.

As he paid for his sister's doll, Jughead couldn't help but think back on the few nights before. Now, he wouldn't be able to explain what brought him to the Cooper's doorstep. He had left his own home without a destination in mind. Thoughts restless. Home restless. Stomach restless.

Times like these usually required a nice nap to recuperate. Sleeping often just became a nice habit.

Jellybean's hand tucked into his as they left the store.

Somehow, sleep eluded him at Betty's.

He could almost relive it.

Betty just sank right into him. Everything was warm and quiet and bright in the shadows of her bedroom. He had witnessed the perpetual chaos that seemed to follow the blond like an impending storm. Always invisible. He didn't know what, but something was slowly eating at her . . . and that night, as she nonchalantly joined him in her bed (as he tried to look interested in a book that was far from it), she seemed at peace. Jughead wasn't stupid enough to think that he was the cause of her sudden serenity. After all, his buddy Archie would always hold that throne. But, it was something that he let himself believe while Betty slept at his side, their legs entangled, his fingers in her hair.

It was nerve-wracking as hell.

And, a guilty indulgence he enjoyed for all of thirty minutes.

"Jughead, can we have ice cream on the way home?"

The teen smiled. Ice cream was something to look forward to. "If you eat all of your lunch."

"What if I don't?"

Betty was his friend. And, no matter what, he would be there to help her. Archie problems or not.

Complicated feelings aside.

"Well, then. I guess I'll be enjoying a triple scoop banana split on my own."

"NO FAIR!"

* * *

 

[Words: 1,431]


	7. Despair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last night, we had a great fight.  
> I fell asleep in a horrible state.  
> Then dreamt, that you loved my best friend.  
> My heart would not mend.  
> Seemed it was fake.

Wearing a gold Colonel Jacquard Dress that hung lightly off her right shoulder and draped carefully over her curves, ending in a flattering line over her knees, Betty Cooper enjoyed a plateful of delicate French cuisine and a glass of sparkling apple cider. Chandeliers glimmered above, adding to the almost grandiose beauty of the table spread before her.

"Oh my, Betty! You have got to try this whipped spread. It's decadent!" Wrapped in an Allen Schwartz navy chiffon sequin detailed evening gown, Veronica slathered the spread on a warm croissant before passing it to her friend. "They've really out-done themselves this year."

Betty beamed, before taking the offered pastry. "No kidding! Thank you so much for inviting me, Ron."

The brunette shrugged it off with a smile. "Spare me the thanks, Betty. You know I bring you to this charity dinner every year, and I'm happy to do it." Candle-light gleamed against her jewelry as she brushed a strand of midnight behind her ear. "Besides, you made such a great impression on Dr. Dillard last time. You two have been keeping up, right?"

Betty took a moment to enjoy the whipped spread, feeling her spine practically melt as hazelnut caressed her taste buds. It was heaven. An amused quirk of Veronica's brow brought her back down to Earth. "Sorry. Haha. Um, yes. Dr. Dillard has been allowing me to help him build ideas on improving the lifestyles of various villages in Mexico. If things work out, I may be able to do some volunteer work down there one summer."

Leaning forward, Veronica propped a slim arm on the tablecloth, and laced her fingers together. "Daddy let me tag-along on his missionary work in Africa a few years back. I really think you'd like it."

Putting her fork down, Betty was suddenly overwhelmed as she took in the various representatives and politicians mingling in the ballroom. The Lodge Charity Gala was one of the biggest yearly events in Riverdale, bringing in hundreds of powerful individuals from all over the world together to promote world-wide charity and peace.

Every year, without fail, Veronica swept her off her feet, dressed her up like a princess, and put her in direct contact with others who shared her passion for environmental preservation and bettering the situations of the unfortunate.

It was an opportunity of a lifetime.

Another Christmas in her year.

"This is . . . it . . . it just amazes me every year."

Veronica's eyes softened. Her hand reached over the tablecloth to cover Betty's hands and offered a friendly squeeze.

And, this was the core of their friendship. This was what made "Betty and Veronica."

Despite their social statuses, their personalities, goals, values, and temperaments.

Despite Archie.

They knew each other. Betty would always be there to help Veronica deal with her responsibilities as an heiress. Veronica would always be there to help Betty gain the opportunities she needed to be happy and important.

They hated each other.

They loved each other.

Mind fresh with all of their shared memories, Betty squeezed back.

Maybe this was worth the sacrifices, too.

 

* * *

 

Three hours later, Betty was walking back home, her purse filled with contact information, and eco-bag filled with left-overs, and a buzzing brain. The night air was cool on her skin, and she contemplated removing her high heels, but home was just a few more blocks. She turned Ronnie down when she offered a limo ride, in favor of a little thinking time. Being surrounded by things that screamed her best friend would be counter-productive.

She paused under the light of a dim lamp post, recognizing it as a place Archie and the boys liked to skate during the comfortable spring days. Even now, she was able to conjure up the red-head's adorable smile as he picked himself up from another fall.

Betty kept extra stashes of band-aids in her wallet for such occasions.

Feeling something tickle along her cheek, Betty reached up, surprised to find a single tear wet her fingertips.

With a sense of finality, she wondered if this was how all ends felt like. She offered the night sky a shaky chuckle.

If only she didn't love Ronnie.

If only she didn't love Archie.

If only. If only.

If only.

Light flickered on in the corner of her eye, and Betty turned, mildly surprised that she had found herself before the driveway of the Jones Family. The light had come on in Jughead's room and without a second thought, she walked onto his lawn to stop under his window. Her mind immediately brought up endless similar scenarios in cliché romance movies, and laughed as she scooped up a few pebbles before tossing them up to hit the window pane.

Time to wake up Juliette.

It only took a few before the blue curtains were drawn back, and Jughead was looking down at her, surprise clear on his face.

Betty couldn't help but laugh some more, waving like it was completely normal for her to be in his yard at 11:30 p.m.

"Betty?" Jughead slid his window open and called down to her in an exaggerated stage whisper. "What in the world are you doing?"

She held up her bag of food, mimicking his tone. "I'm heading home from Ronnie's. Want to share some left-overs?"

The answering smile was enough. "Hang on. Let me get the front door—"

"Don't bother!" Betty grinned, reaching down to pull her shoes off.

"Uh . . . Bets?"

Jughead seemed to be stuck in a perpetual state of disbelief as he clumsily reached out and caught her heels before they could tumble back down. His eyes remained glued to her as she swept her hair behind her shoulder, threaded her arm through the eco-bag and prepared herself to climb up to his second-story bedroom. "What in the world are you doing?" His harsh whisper called down to her. "Are you drunk?"

The accusation made her snort as she grasped the drainage pipe alongside the height of the house and began to pull herself up. "How about trusting me a little bit?"

He mumbled a curse before ducking back in his room, returning with his hands free. "Just be careful, you crazy blond."

Feeling unbelievably light, Betty couldn't help the smile on her face as she easily scaled the side of the house. Large hands wrapped around her upper arms all too soon, securely grasping her and pulling her into the warmth of Jughead's room. Arms held her to his chest for only a moment before Jughead returned to the window to close it. "It is way too late for this insanity . . ."

Chuckling, Betty placed the bag on his desk and dropped onto his bed, mindful of the half-bowl of chips and still-warm videogame controller. "Your family is sleeping."

"I don't think opening the front door would have interrupted them," he pointed out. Clad in a tank-top and shorts, he scrutinized her. "You ok?"

"Oh, I'm fine, Juggie," exasperation coloring her voice as she wrinkled her nose. "A little exercise never hurt anyone."

"In the middle of the night?" Jughead pointed out before grabbing her bag and sitting beside her.

"It was fun," she closed her eyes, listening to him dig through her left-overs. Feeling the adrenaline leave her, she took stock in his room as exhaustion slowly began to creep in. She wasn't here often, but the familiar cream walls covered in band and game posters was a welcome sight. The small television on the dresser was surrounded by books and empty soda bottles.

Not a single homage to a particular female in sight.

The lair of a genius.

"Hey, this stuff is great."

Betty sat up. "Try the hazelnut spread. It's awesome."

As Jughead finished off her food, she picked up his videogame controller and finished off his level of Tetris.

"You look nice."

"Thank you. Ronnie's letting me borrow it."

"How did the Gala go?"

"It was amazing! It's nice to know that I'm making even a small impact on the world, you know? I'm forever grateful to Ron for giving me this opportunity so often."

Jughead managed a smile around his croissant. "I'm glad you had fun. And, thanks for thinking of me. Though a bigger doggie bag would have been appreciated."

"You're welcome, glutton."

"Oh, man . . . the French really know how to make a man happy."

"Clearly." Betty paused the game and swiped a cracker. "What have you been up to all day?"

Licking his fingers, Jughead stuffed his trash back into the eco-bag and put it aside. He repossessed his game controller and continued the level. "Nothing quite as impressive as a gala. Arch and I caught an old 80's horror flick at the dollar theater. We met up with Moose and Midge at Pop's afterwards. Oh, and we saw Cheryl there, too." He glanced at her. "She was looking for you. Said she would catch up later."

Betty smiled at the mention of her friend. The odd rivalry she insisted on having with Veronica in—well—everything, made life interesting. Pulling her legs up on the bed, she wrapped her arms around her knees. "I'm sure Archie was in full-on flirt mode with Cheryl and Midge around."

"Ya know my buddy: thinks with his hormones instead of his head."

"Hm." Her eyes drifted closed again.

"You gonna tell me what's up?"

"Hm?"

The television played a jingle as Jughead scored a tetris. "You've been occupied lately. Every time I see you, the gears seem to be going and going, 24/7."

"I have a nimble mind."

"You'll think yourself into senility at this rate."

Betty smiled absently, her side connecting with his.

It was warm, quiet, and really, really comfortable.

"Want to know a secret, Jughead?"

"Sure." He didn't move away, eyes glued to the harder level on the screen.

Betty imagined Veronica as she mingled with the crowd, the lights sparkling above her and her midnight-blue dress. She imagined Archie swooning. "I've been thinking about Archie."

Jughead chuckled. "That's not much of a secret, Sunshine."

She breathed through closed lids. "I think I'm going to forget him."

As expected, Betty felt Jughead still beside her as he paused his game, and she fumbled on. "I mean, I want to. I think . . . I think it's time to move on." She opened her eyes. "You know?"

Her companion was completely expressionless as he blinked at her. "You serious?"

"Yes!" Feeling restless again, she got to her feet and began to pace. "Archie will always be close to my heart, but maybe we should just try being friends. Him and Ronnie can focus on each other and I can maybe free up some brain cells to think about something other than them."

"Hey, Betty." Jughead reached out and grabbed her wrist, forcing her to stop running holes into the carpet. Pulling her in front of him, he rubbed his hands up and down her arms to calm her down; not unlike how he would calm Hotdog down. "Calm down for a second. You sure this is what you want?"

No. "Yes. I really think I need this."

Jughead sighed, his eyes searching hers as he seemed to gather his thoughts. "And . . . keeping this a secret will . . ."

"Well, I don't want to out-right announce it. Just, let my actions speak for me."

He arched an eyebrow. "And, you're telling me this isn't going to hurt."

Betty managed a smile and ran a hand through his hair. "I've got you, don't I?"

Of course, Jughead managed to grin and roll his eyes at the same time. "You are gonna owe me a lot of meals for this."

"I'll cook through Julia Child's books for you, Juggie."

"I'll hold you to that." Reaching down, he grabbed her shoes. "Come on, Sunshine. I'll walk you home."

Betty glowed.

What doesn't kill you makes you stronger.

* * *

 

[Word Count: 1,997]


	8. Doors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Started as a flicker  
> Meant to be a flame  
> Skin has gotten thicker but it burns the same  
> Still a baby in a cradle  
> Got to take my first fall  
> Baby's getting next to nowhere with her back  
> Against the wall

Everything was still the same. But, it wasn't.

Classes continued on schedule, friends hung out at Pop's, Betty ran at the track every afternoon, cafeteria food still tasted the same, and Betty still brought leftovers to school for him. Archie still pined after Veronica. Veronica continued to string him along.

But. Then . . . the leftovers were tasting better than usual (and they were amazing before), he stayed behind more often to watch Betty run (and walked her home most nights).

Everything was the same. But, it was different. And, no one seemed to notice except him.

Jughead suddenly felt like his days were now composed of more than just family, Archie, food, and friends. Now, there was more Betty.

He didn't know how he felt about that.

So, to cope, he managed to mooch an extra serving of meatloaf from Miss Beazley.

And, he felt a little better.

"If it isn't the bravest man in Riverdale," his own tray in hand, Chuck sat across from him at the cafeteria table. "Where are your buddies?"

Jughead shrugged. "Around. You know I can't be bothered by people who have no respect for lunch period." Betty was tutoring, but he could let that slide since she did hand him a lunch bag before running off.

He vaguely wondered if she was hungry.

Chuckling, the young artist shook his head. "I hear you, man. It's impossible not to be hungry by the time noon rolls around. There are only so many papers and math problems I can handle at a time." His eyes drifted to the blue-plaid tote by Jughead's tray. "Hey~ Who's the lucky girl?"

"Who?"

"Don't kid me, man." He grinned. "Who's our 'he-man-woman-hater' dating?"

Jughead took a second to study his friend for any obvious signs of insanity. Him dating? Was this the result of another lag in the Riverdale Rumor Mill? "I can assure you that I remain blissfully single, Chuck. Where's all the finger-pointing coming from?"

Chuck hesitated a bit before pointing out the blue tote, wondering if he was mistaken after all. "Er, you saying your mom packed you lunch?"

"Oh, this. Nah. It's from Betty."

"Betty?"

"Yeah. She's always bringing me her left-over dinners," he grinned. "It gives me that added boost to get through the day."

"Really?"

Tucking back into his meatloaf, Jughead ignored Chuck's inquiring look. All of Riverdale High knew that Betty was a great cook and he was a great eater. The obvious course of their friendship would require one to feed the other. Even if it wasn't the biggest part of their relationship, it was a nice perk.

Chuck was obviously out of the loop since most of his lunch periods consisted of being out on the ball field. Poor guy.

"Speaking of Betty," Chuck took a swig of milk before spearing a few carrot coins with his fork. "She seems kind of distant, yes?"

Jughead cocked his eyebrow, wondering if Betty's act was getting too transparent. The girl couldn't lie to save her life, anyway. "Distant?"

"Well, we see her all the time at school, sure. But, she seems to be spending more and more time at the track," he shrugged. "Nancy has been bouncing her woes off of me lately. Something about no 'girl-time'."

"Betty has been the same," Jughead lied, fitting easily into his role as the blond's accomplice. "I'm sure you're aware that the track-meet with Central is coming up."

"Oh. Right! Archie hasn't mentioned it lately and I completely forgot. What is it, two more weeks away?"

Jughead nodded before diving into the lunch bag beside him. His mouth watered at the Tupperware. Beef stew.

Beef Stew!

"Aw, man!" Chuck peeked into the bag. "You've got to share, Jug. This meatloaf is killing me."

As expected, the long-nosed teen snorted. "You can have my left-overs." As if there would be any. Betty's beef stew was legendary within the home economics community. And, Jughead just happened to be fond of legends.

Especially of the beef stew variety.

Chuck was fully aware of this and took no offence as Jug practically inhaled the stew. In fact, the young cartoonist looked relatively deviant as he ate around his tray and watched Jughead eat himself into nirvana.

Clearing his throat, he pushed his tray aside. "Hey, Jug. Let me get your opinion."

The responding "sure" was hard to determine through a full mouth.

"Working hard is fine and all, but it's important to relax a bit, too. Nancy makes sure I get time off, especially before a game or a competition."

Jughead nodded, half-way through the Tupperware.

"And, between you and me, Betty is in tip-top shape as an athlete, so all of this pushing she's giving her body isn't really necessary. The poor girl needs a break."

This wasn't too hard to follow, and Jughead nodded. "What do you have in mind?"

"A double-date."

"Since when does dating equate to 'taking a break?'"

"A double-date," he emphasized. "It'll give Nancy and Betty their girl-time and give everyone a chance to catch up."

Jughead blinked. "Ok, sure. Sounds great, but why are you telling me this? Shouldn't you be bouncing ideas off Arch?"

"I think it's pretty obvious that Archie is in that 'Veronica-time-of-the-month.'" He leaned forward with a grin. "I was thinking Nancy and I could double-date with Bets and you."

Jughead thought he did a really good job of hiding his surprise by stuffing a buttered roll into his mouth before he could cough up whatever he just swallowed. A DOUBLE-DATE? Him dating?

With Betty?

"Uhhhhm . . ."

Chuck seemed ignorant of any stupidity on Jughead's part, as he leaned back with crossed arms. "Why not? We are all friends, and Betty is pretty comfortable around you. I think having Archie come along would be counter-productive to the relaxation goal, don't you think?"

That's right. He and Betty are friends. Friends can relax with each other. They can go out and have fun with other couples and keep each other company when things got weird. He wrinkled his nose. Things only get weird between lovers, right? He and Betty knew each other. No awkwardness between them.

But . . . did it have to be called a date?

Why not an outing?

And, if he even did consider asking Betty to this "double-date" madness, wouldn't the cursed word require him to dress nice and bring flowers or something?

Not that taking Betty flowers was a problem. Or, even dressing nice for her. God knew she was completely worth it-

And, Betty dressing up nice for him?

"Um, Jug?"

Snapping out of his thoughts, Jughead felt his brain hurt. "Er, the four of us?"

Chuck smiled. "Yeah! We can bowl and eat at that new Mexican restaurant. It'll be fun."

Jughead liked Mexican.

"I'll check with Betty."

"Awesome."

His chest buzzed.

* * *

[Word Count: 1,144]


	9. Drink

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Don't wish. Don't start.  
> Wishing only wounds the heart  
> I wasn't born for the rose and the pearl  
> There's a girl I know; He loves her so  
> I'm not that girl.

With an elevated heart rate of her own, Betty stared down at her bare knees. Her hands cupped a cold can of diet coke, the un-popped tab glaring at her under the sun. Sweat raced nonlinear patterns down the back of her neck and knees.

After her usual runs, Betty always felt some-what refreshed: exhilarated after allowing her body the freedom of speed and constant, unrestricted movement.

But, all she felt now was exhaustion.

Habit ensured the mechanical smile on her face as Archie sat by her with a can of soda for himself, gushing over her brilliant run.

Could a run be brilliant?

"Seriously, Bets. You are gonna blow Central out of the water!"

His innocent adoration was almost blinding and her smile softened. "Thank you, Archie. For coming to watch." She tipped her can. "And, for the drink."

He smiled in response, brushing one of her sweaty curls behind her ear. "I'm sorry it took so long for me to make it out here, Betty. I hear Jug has been out here though."

Betty scratched absently at the tingle his touch left behind. "Yeah, he has." She chuckled awkwardly (why was she so nervous?). "You wouldn't know it just looking at him, but he's a great cheerleader."

"No kidding!" Archie laughed. "Remember Jug's short foray into cheerleading a few months back? That guy's a nut."

The blond smiled in response. "He was really good. It's just too bad that you and Reggie pressured him out of it."

Archie shrugged as he took another swig of his soda.

Betty pulled her eyes away from him as she rolled the can around in her hands, grasping for something to talk about. How exactly does one go about carrying a conversation with the one you were trying to fall out of love with? She didn't mind talking about Jughead, but if Archie even mentioned Veronica, she was going to knock the freckles off his face.

No one said she had to be a good sport about this.

"You ok, Betts?"

The naked concern surprised her for a moment before throwing him a confused smile. "Ok? Yeah, Archie. I'm fine."

Her assurance did little to abate his worry as he absently placed a hand on her shoulder. "It's just that you have been kinda distant lately. Ronnie and I have noticed."

She vaguely wondered what part of that statement was a lie. And, what was a half-truth.

Archie stumbled on. "Not that I don't think that you have a lot on your plate with the meet and all that. I mean, the whole school is rooting for you. Not that you need it! You'll probably completely own-"

Betty allowed herself a small chuckle. "You are babbling, Archie." And, while a babbling red-head was amusing, it usually meant that Archie was slightly troubled. Friend, or girlfriend, or whatever, she wanted to ease his mind. "Now, I know that you have something on your mind. What's up?"

Archie tensed as he was inadvertently shoved into uncharted waters. Not one for planning, he simply jumped, wondering-hoping that the young woman next to him would catch him. "You're leaving."

Betty blinked, turning to fully face him. "What?"

"I-I mean, you aren't really leaving-leaving," he groaned, scratching furiously at his head. With a sigh, he glanced at her. "You're leaving me."

"Leaving you?"

"Getting over me, or whatever," he chuckled nervously. "I guess, I can just feel it now . . . with you never calling me anymore or . . . hugging me between classes . . ."

Betty couldn't explain the sudden irritation as she frowned at the race track, wondering where Archie found the gall to sound even remotely disappointed in her. "I didn't realize that Archie Andrews had exclusive insight into my feelings. That's definitely news to me."

Guilt highlighted his freckles.

And, this. This was it.

This was her bullet to bite.

She released a deep sigh, gently putting the can down. "But, while we are on the subject, I guess, you might be a little right." She flashed him a short, sad smile. "Not that you really have to worry. After all, you are Archie Andrews, my first love, and you'll always be near my heart." The heat continued to dry the sweat from her skin. "You . . . you just won't be in it. Not anymore."

"Is there another guy?"

Dark hair and a lazy smile flashed across her mind for a moment. "No." Not really. Not yet. Clearing her throat, Betty leaned back. "I really think this is for the best. Don't deny it, but you are absolutely head-over-heels in love with Ronnie, and you've been telling me for years that you can only see me as one of the guys. At least this way, we can be friends and stop being . . . what ever we were."

Archie remained motionless under the sun, and Betty was more than happy to leave him to his thoughts. Climbing to her feet, she stretched her arms out, back arching as she finally loosened her muscles.

"Friends, huh?" Archie sat up and smiled at her. "I think I can handle that."

"'Handle that?'" Betty snorted, twisting her torso to loosen her back muscles. "Like I need your 'permission,' Archie. I would have gotten over you eventually." For some reason, her admission for freedom had loosened her tongue. "I mean, come on!" Throwing her arms wide, she smirked at him. "How in the WORLD can I compare to Veronica Lodge?"

And, that seemed to be the crux of it.

What self-respecting man would choose the girl-next-door to the girl-who-has-everything?

Frankly, she was tired of playing second-fiddle.

Catching sight of Jughead approaching the track from the school, Betty felt and honest-to-God smile blossom on her face. She quickly threw a towel over her neck and snatched up her duffle, sparing Archie another smile. "I'll see you around, Archie. And, thanks, again, for coming to see me."

The red-head stood and smiled back. "I hope you are happy, Betts."

"I am!" Waving good-bye, Betty jogged towards Jughead, watching as he caught sight of her and lifted his hand in greeting. The exhaustion that seemed to be laced through her bones a few moments earlier vanished as she hurried to meet up with her sly glutton half way, welcomed by his signature smile.

"Hey, Juggie."

"Sunshine." Pulling a cool water bottle from his bag, he tossed it to her, easily falling into step at her side as they took their usual path to Betty's home. "Sorry I didn't make it to your run. Chuck needed my attention."

Betty downed a forth of the bottle before shrugging. "It's not a problem. Archie was there."

"Archie, eh?"

"Yeah," she smiled. "I must admit that he was a poor substitute for a cheerleader."

"Of course. He hasn't given me the chance to show him some signature cheers."

Her laughter wrapped around them as she held the cool bottle to her neck. After weeks of balancing along the line of moving on with her life and staying in limbo with her infatuation with Archie, Betty felt as light as air. The sun no longer felt like a weight on her shoulders, and the cool breeze held her attention a little longer than usual. She impulsively removed the rubber band from her hair, to let the wind play in the strands.

Jughead seemed to notice the change and nudged her with his elbow. "Feeling better?"

"Oh, Jughead. You have no idea." Turning a contented smile at him, she nudged him back with her shoulder. "I told him."

"Ah." The taller teen nodded, adjusting the strap of his messenger bag. "How did he take it?"

"Like a sport. I mean, I think he was a little surprised, and maybe a little expectant of it. But, he has Veronica." She closed her eyes. "He'll be fine."

"And, you?"

With a snort, Betty laced her arm through his. "Oh, ye of little faith! I'll be fine. I've got you remember?"

Jughead cringed, mockingly pulling away from her but not far enough for her to break her hold on his arm. "Yeah, and I've got your sweat all over me. Cut it with the touchy-feely."

She laughed at his expense and held him tighter. "Don't be such a spoil sport and let me bask in my freedom. This Betty Cooper is no longer playing 2nd place to ANYBODY!"

Her smile was contagious, and she knew it, watching as Jughead reluctantly return one to her. "Well, celebrate away, Sunshine. It's not like I have any desire to rain on your parade."

"I knew you were smart," she grinned. "So, what did Chuck need you for? He trying to persuade you to join the basketball team again?"

Her male companion seemed to tense a bit under her hands, but she over looked it as he held her arm a little tighter to his body. "It's funny you asked . . ."

  
* * *

She said yes.

* * *

[Word Count: 1,501]


	10. Duty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I ask  
> I ask your heart  
> I ask

When Chuck Clayton meets up with Nancy Woods, he shares their weekend plans, confident in his genius and insight. Nancy agrees (how did she not catch this before?) and proceeds to show her clever boyfriend just how much she appreciates him.

Later, halfway through her literature homework, Nancy calls Midge to share the latest in Riverdale gossip. Both are secretly relieved that Betty is finally putting some distance between herself and Archie. Because, while he is adorably charming, there is a fine line between love and masochism.

But, Jughead?

Isn't he a-sexual or something?

Apparently not.

Nancy notes how the two seem inseparable lately.

Maybe it's just friendship?

The two teens really hope not. They wonder how much longer it will take for a pool to start running at school. When will the odd-ball (but adorable) couple start going steady?

Midge vaguely wonders if Archie knows.

Archie doesn't know.

He sits in Mr. Lodge's den with an arm full of Veronica and an action romcom playing on a 40-inch flat-screen. The golden couple scale a building in flashy formal-wear as Ronnie laughs into his side.

And, he's content (He should be).

He's happy (He should be).

But, all he thinks about is Betty under the sun after thirty-minutes on the track. How un-heartbroken she is when she declares them "just friends" now (which is what he wanted all along, right?). How he sits there after she leaves, staring at the soda she left behind.

She didn't even drink it.

Veronica drops a kiss on his cheek before offering him some more popcorn.

The sooner he helps her finish it, the sooner he can fetch her a new batch.

That night, Betty dreams of Jughead kissing her behind the track bleachers.

Alone in his bed with a half-eaten turkey-wrap, Jughead is kept awake with the memory of a young woman running towards him. Blue eyes only on him.

 

* * *

 

I ask myself if this is what it means to be over it

 I take it out to reminence it again and again

What in the world did I forget?

* * *

[Word Count: 320]

[AN: Ah. Ten chapters in. I think now is a decent time for an obligatory author's note :). I'll probably post an author's note every ten chapters, as well as the playlist identifying the songs I've used for the past ten chapters (since I'm sure that most people don't read these things anyway).

So! The prelims. This story is supposed to be composed of interlocking drabbles, but as you can see, there are some most chapters that surpass the word limit for a drabble. I have horrible control with over stating details and such, and this little project is a way to help me be a better writer, and further enjoy my childhood. This will be a fifty chapter story, and I have a vague outline for the rest of the story, so I hope you will all stick with me till the end. Much thanks to my wonderful reviewers and my non-reviewing followers. This story is partially for you as well :) ]

Chapters 1-10 Song List

1\. "No Air" by: Jordan Sparks

2\. "Arithmetic" by: Brooke Frasier

3\. "The Beginning" by: Lighthouse

4\. "Birds and Bees" by: Ben Lee feat. Mandy Moore

5\. "C.S. Lewis Song" by: Brooke Frasier

6\. "A Dark Congregation" by: The Hush Sound

7\. "Sky" by: Joshua Radin feat. Ingrid Michaelson

8\. "Bottle it Up" by: Sara Bareilles

9\. "I'm Not that Girl" by: Elphaba [Wicked]

10\. "Just Laughter . . ." by: Zia


	11. Earth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You can try  
> But it is useless to ask why  
> Cannot control her  
> She goes her own way

For the first time in his life, Jughead found himself without an appetite. The absence of any hunger pangs left him feeling inexplicably vulnerable.All at the thought of Betty and this freaking date.

Jughead stuck his head in the fridge, hoping that the sight of left-over chicken-pot-pie would seduce him back to relative sanity. Thick chunks of vegetables, juicy pieces of white and dark meat chicken, the seductive sheen of thickened broth, freckled with spices and herbs, and thick pie crust stared back at him. The plastic wrap wrapped around it was a slight turn off. Desperation made him yank the pot-pie out and shove it into the oven.

Hot pie was sexier than cold pie.

The pie crust rose beneath his eyes, flakes blooming where the broth lightly bubbled.

It wasn't working and he mourned a little inside.

Switching the oven off, the disgruntled teen dragged his feet into the living room and dropped into the lazy-boy. His mother sat at the couch, watching the Discovery channel as she brushed Jellybean's freshly washed hair. The squirt in question wavered between "awake" and "dead asleep."

"Was that pot pie I smelled?" His mother asked, "I thought you were going out with your friends?"

Jughead sighed. "I was just trying something out."

She smiled, "Well, as long as you don't burn the house down." Tying off her daughter's braid, she looked up, taking in her son's appearance for the first time. "Well, don't you look nice tonight."

Jughead spared himself a glance: white button-down, black jeans, red Converses, and solid black suspenders. "Hm."

"I'm sure Betty will appreciate it."

Sinking further in his seat, Jughead forced himself to keep his eyes glued to the television. "She is just a friend, and I'm pretty sure that I am offended by your implication that I can't dress up 'nicely.'"

Gladys Jones smiled as she watched her son ignore her and appear nonchalant to what was probably a big deal for him. She was a mother after all, and it was her job to keep tabs on the ups and downs on her son's social relationships. Jughead was a predictable force in her life. Food and ease of life was what made him happy. If anything did change it was as subtle as a shift in the direction of the wind or the slow transition between a drizzle to a heavy rain.

The solid black suspenders was the subtle wind she was fully aware of. After all, her son liked patterns and colors. Black was too formal for him, and if he chose to wear it, then it was because he was serious about something.

When he informed her that he was going out to dinner with his friends and Betty, the wind picked up a little bit more, almost soothing in its caress as she realized that the close friendship that her son and Betty Cooper had was slowly shifting (and she had her eyes on that particular relationship for a very long time).

"When are you going to be meeting with your friends, dear?"

"Betty and I agreed that she would come here and we'd meet up with Chuck and Nancy at the Mexican Restaurant downtown. She's going to be driving her mom's car."

"Ah," she hid her disappointment at her son's lack of chivalry. Why wasn't he picking her up? She would have been more than happy to let him borrow the family car!

Sometimes Gladys was sick and tired of subtle and yearned for and explosive storm of something else.

* * *

 

[Word Count: 591]


	12. End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I've been watching your world from afar,  
> I've been trying to be where you are,  
> And, I've been secretly falling,  
> I'll see.

Jughead's thigh was warm against hers, as the four of them chatted around a table of Mexican food. As comforting as it was to be sharing just a modicum of body heat, it was also a surprising distraction.

How was she supposed to respond to anything Nancy asked her or take in any joke from Chuck's repertoire if she was too busy being sidetracked by Jughead's thigh muscles?

When the hell did he get thigh muscles?

And, this lead to memories of hugging Jughead's arm close while walking to school, snapping out of her thoughts when her dinner mates burst into laughter, and refocusing on the heat by her thigh.

It was a vicious cycle.

Jughead reached over and dipped his quesadilla into her cup of sour cream, effectively cutting her off from her automatic reach-and-munch of tortilla chips. "Ya know, if you aren't going to be eating the rest of that, I'll be more than happy to take it off your hands."

"That" happened to be her plate of excellent grilled chicken, soft tacos, and they were hers, thank you very much. Betty glared at him before taking a large bite out of her second one. "Keep your greedy paws off, hon. The way I see it, you still have the rest of that quesadilla and half of the table to go before even thinking about ingesting my dinner." She smiled. "But thanks for the thought."

As expected, he simply shrugged, stole the other half of the taco in her hand and continued systematically demolishing the table spread.

Betty took a slice of his quesadilla and rolled her eyes as Nancy laughed. "It's like you guys are dancing a food tango."

The blond snorted. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Nancy winked as she took a sip of her lemonade. "We always pick on Jug for ordering enough for two. And, it seems to be more truth than anything with you picking at his plate like that."

"Hey! It's retaliation! Didn't you see him take the rest of my taco?" She wiggled her fingers in the air. "Right out of my hands!"

Chuck grinned. "Man, with that huge appetite you two seem to share, you guys'll out eat us by the time the check comes. Must be due to all the cross-country training, eh?"

"Which we aren't talking about right now." Nancy elbowed her boyfriend and shared an exasperated eye-roll with Betty. "What is it with men and dancing to the same tune all the time?"

"Well, we know that comics and sports seem to take up most of the male psyche," Betty chuckled. "That's why they need us."

"So true!"

"Hey, I'm not going to argue with that." Chuck shrugged sharing a look with Jughead. The long-nosed teen seemed completely satisfied with leaving the girls to their accusations and eating off of his and Betty's plate.

Betty wasn't bothered, instead focusing all of her attention on getting as many smiles and laughs out of Nancy.

Nancy grinned. "So, did you hear about the latest Midge and Moose drama?"

"I thought they were IN a never ending drama."

"True. Except this time, they have hit another pot hole in the relationship." She leaned forward. "And, this particular pot hole took place in front of the antique mall in the Riverdale Mall."

Betty gasped in hardly suppressed guilty horror. Lately, the two had been careful enough to keep any of their relationship woes away from the public eye. It made the pot-holes much easier to recover from, which worked to Moose's advantage (since he was usually the creator of said pot-holes). "Please tell me it wasn't a huge fiasco!"

"Saturday lunch rush." Nancy shook her head gravely. "It was like the circus had come to town, with the main attraction being the battle between Beauty and the Beast."

Betty groaned, and snatched up another bite of her taco. "Let me guess, another one of Midge's male admirers?"

"Bingo. The poor guy fell up the escalator in his panic to get away from the rampaging Moose." Nancy hid her grin behind a slim hand. "It took half of mall security to move the battling duo out of the traffic zone, and peel Romeo off the ground."

Betty's laughter joined with Nancy's as the dinner continued. The boys didn't mind letting the two dominate the conversation, instead throwing in supportive comments, sharing knowing glances, and eating.

As the meal progressed, and their drinks were refilled, Betty couldn't help but feel more relaxed and happy than she had ever felt in a long time. Girls-night-out with Vernoica usually included fancy dresses, fine dining, and Ronnie talking about the various woes of her life. And, Archie. They always argued (or sometimes agreed) about Archie.

It was amazing how enjoyable a conversation that had absolutely NOTHING to do with Archie could be on a girl. And, Betty couldn't help but keep on thinking that she wouldn't be nearly as happy right at this moment if Jughead hadn't been here for her.

She masked a smile behind her drink as he took another dip in her sour cream.

"And, you won't order your own sour cream because . . . ?"

"Can't be bothered," he answered, salsa decorating the corner of his lip.

"Lazy bum," she replied, before moving her sour cream cup to the space between their plates.

Betty almost didn't want their dinner to end. In truth, she would have been completely content with spending the entire night at that table, their drinks continuously refilled, and the conversation and comfort never ending. She knew that if she kept on eating, however, she wouldn't be able to sleep with the insane stomachache that would undoubtedly keep her up tonight.

It would be worth it if only this moment would never end.

But, someone seemed to be smiling down on her, because the dinner did end, but the atmosphere stayed, as the four of them forwent driving to the bowling alley and instead opted to take a moonlit walk to the nearby hangout. It was only four blocks, but it was four blocks of walking arm in arm with Nancy and laughing about absolute nothings. They skipped over cracks, and pointed at brightly lit store windows, as the boys followed close behind.

They paired up, boys versus women and spent the next hour and a half in a battle of the sexes.

Well, at least, it would be more of a battle if one particular boy was more interested in the game instead of the nachos. After Betty's third split halfway into the game, she took a seat at the tables behind the bowling stations. There, Jughead was only paying the game half mind.

"Mind if I interrupt your intimate moment with the melted cheese?" She smiled, taking a sip of his grape soda.

Jughead returned a grin. "You know you can interrupt me anytime, Betty. Though, you may have to explain yourself to the cheddar. It can get pretty possessive of my time."

She thought about voicing the reminder that this was his date with her, not with the nachos, but held her tongue. "It's your turn after Chuck. And, in case you haven't noticed, Nancy and I are beating you two by a pretty good margin."

As expected, Jughead shrugged. "I noticed. Good job."

"You planning on giving us a real competition any time soon? We feel horrible about giving only Chuck a run for his money."

"Hey. Bowling was his idea. I'll bowl just to even the odds, but I'm pretty happy right here."

"With the cheddar."

"With the cheddar."

"What if I say that there will be a prize for the winner?"

This piqued Jughead's interest, his eyes clearing from it's nacho-induced haze. "Really? What kind of prize?"

Betty smiled, feeling her heart trill with some unnamed anticipation. "How about . . . if you win, I'll make you a four-course dinner, COMPLETE with my Cranberry-Apple Pie." She paused to enjoy his temporary slip into a drooling stupor before continuing. "And, if I win, you have to take me to the school dance next month."

"The school dance?" He arched an eyebrow, "that's it?"

In retrospect, the winnings were objectively out of balance, and Betty knew it. Jughead had accompanied her to a few dance before, but he always simply came as a friendly-escort. He'd walk her in, dance a few catchy tunes with her, then park himself by the refreshment table until it was time for them to leave. This time, Betty wanted an honest-to-God date with Jughead.

She knew that what they were in now was officially labeled as a double-date, but she could see it for what it really was: a hangout. Chuck and Nancy took up as much of her attention as Jughead did, and while it was nice, Betty really wanted to know where a real date with Jughead would lead. She was coming to terms with her growing attraction to him, and if he agreed . . . well, maybe she could see if their friendship and her attraction meant something more.

The fear wasn't nearly strong enough to stop the excitement from stealing her breath away.

She nodded. "Just the dance."

"Hm." His eyes strayed over to Chuck, who was finishing up his play with a spare. She could practically feel the gears in his head turning, and Betty knew that he was understanding that this little bet was between just the two of them. It didn't take long for his attention to shift back to her, a slow grin spreading across his face. "Sounds like a good bet to me. I'm in."

It took all of Betty's mental power to hold in the urge to blush, and returning his grin with a challenging smirk of her own. "Perfect."

"All right, Jughead! Your turn!" Chuck waved back at them before taking the spare seat by Nancy.

Jughead's posture, which had initially been his trademark laidback slouch, had seamlessly shifted into the straight-backed solidity of a man on a mission. Betty wasn't even sure if he noticed the radical change in his body, but that didn't stop her from shamelessly enjoying the smooth glide of toned muscle under lightly tanned skin. He had long ago opted to roll up the sleeves of his dress shirt, and she took the chance to ogle his forearms.

She had it really bad.

As Jughead took his bowling ball in hand, Betty plopped down on Nancy's other side. While the couple beside her engaged in irrelevant chatter, her blue eyes were riveted on Jughead's backside.

She had it really REALLY bad.

Did Archie have a back like that?

Not hardly.

Oh God. She had it so bad.

As Betty systematically thought back on their dinner to see if she had accidentally ingested any alcohol, she heard the solid clash of a strike.

Jughead pivoted on his heel, bowed to the enthusiastic claps of Chuck and Nancy, and smiled with shameless pride in Betty's direction.

This was really, really, REALLY bad.

And, the night wasn't even over.

* * *

 

[Word Count: 1,845]


	13. Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life can show no mercy, it can tear your soul apart  
> It can make you feel like you've gone crazy but you're not  
> And things have seemed to change, there's one thing that's still the same  
> In my heart, you have remained and we can fly, fly, fly away

Distracting your opponent is a show of poor sportsmanship. Very poor sportsmanship.

Betty was kind, honorable, caring, and smart. And, apparently, she wasn't below the occasional show of poor sportsmanship.

After her formal challenge at the bowling alley, and he began to prove that he wasn't a bad hand at bowling, she started pulling every dirty trick out of the book to get him to lose.

At first, it was just amusing: coughing loudly before he released the ball, cheering for his demise once Chuck's turn was over, and she even got Nancy to help her perform a rather ridiculous rendition of the Macarena to knock him off his focus. Jughead was proud to prove that he could very easily enjoy their ridiculous attempts at sabotage and still keep up with his string of effortless strikes and spares.

Then, things got REALLY dirty.

Betty began to ditch her juvenile plans and actually used her brain instead of her sense of humor (and everyone knew that he never understood female humor . . . or sense for that matter).

She finished off his snacks when he took his turn, making him rush through his plays and get a little sloppy. Luckily, Betty's stomach was much smaller than his, and this could only work for a short while (he felt a bit smug when she got a green around the gills).

Then, she relapsed into girly-insanity and blew into his ear when he least expected it.

At the start of their second game, he was planning on making the girls pay for finishing off the last of the cheese pizza. Completely focused on lining up his ball for his second strike of the game, Jughead was completely unaware of Betty as she slowly snuck up behind him. The bowling ball had barely left his fingertips before he acutely felt the warm breath blow against the shell of his ear.

He only just had time to notice the resulting gutter ball as he spun around, goose bumps covering every inch of him. Jughead had glared at the smug blond, who seemed unrepentant of her blatant intrusion of his personal space. In fact, she was just as sunshiny as ever before blowing him a kiss, and spinning around on her heel and leaving him in a state of irritation and confusion.

Luckily, Jughead was also known for keeping a cool head in complicated situations and managed to end the night as the victor. Just barely.

Betty had pouted as she drove him home.

Right before he left her car, she had offered him a small smile, told him to be at her house tomorrow night to collect his winnings, and left him standing in the slightly chilled night: his eyes glued to her retreating running lights until she turned out of sight.

Needless to say, sleep didn't come easily that night.

Surely, that would explain this current feeling of disconnectedness as he stood by Archie at the local arcade, the red-head focused fully on the racing game before him.

This was not normal.

He was Jughead. He liked food, video games, comic books, eating, playing the drums, and hanging out with the guys. He tolerated girls (except for the few he could really consider friends), and didn't like it when they infringed on his personal space. Kissing was stupid. Hugging was annoying. Dating was a waste of time and energy.

He didn't let girls hang on him, instead opting to shaking them off as soon as he could and running the other way.

So how the heck could he explain the fact that Betty had already broken every single one of his anti-girl codes and she still remained his friend?

Last night was his first date ever: not counting all of the forced dates he had to endure for Ethel's sake. For some reason, it had mattered enough for him to dress for the occasion and actually care enough to want Betty to enjoy herself.

She had dressed in a modest knee-length jean skirt, with a fitted, V-neck red knitted sweater. Her hair had been curled at the ends and flew wildly around her as they walked through the Riverdale night. She hadn't bothered with makeup or extra accessories. She was just Betty.

And, Betty had spent the entire night by his side. Eating his food. Sharing hers. Talking with him. Joking with him.

Flirting with him.

And, he had fully expected to find all of it annoying. Especially the flirting. Betty had flirted with him in the past, and it had always struck a nerve with him.

Not last night.

Something inside Jughead had betrayed him last night. Because in a fit of un-Jughead-like insanity, he had enjoyed every moment of Betty's attention. Laughing was easy. Being faced with Nancy and Chuck's couple-ness had been easy with her by his side.

It would kill him to admit it, but he actually had to fight the urge to blush when she really put her mind to the flirting (his ear still tingled at the memory).

"Darn!" Archie growled, thumping the heels of his palms against the game controls as his character fell in the line of fire for the third time in the last fifteen minutes. "I'm telling you, Jug, this game is rigged."

"Has been for the last six years," Jughead replied, giving himself a mental shake. He really needed to get over it. Resolving to consider the night before a fluke, he refocused his attention to the large blueberry slushy in his hand and his irate best friend.

"Well, someone needs to complain about this piece of junk." Archie growled, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

Jughead grinned. "You were never that great at first person shooter games. What makes you think it isn't the gamer?"

Archie playfully punched him in the shoulder before the two opted out of leaving the arcade before it got even more crowded. The weekends always meant a larger crowd of kids, and neither wanted to deal with cocky boys at the moment.

"Ya wanna try playing a few videogames at my house instead?" Archie asked, once they were a few blocks away from the arcade and a few minutes into a companionable silence. "It took a while, but I was finally able to convince Reggie to let me borrow that new game."

"The one that isn't technically out yet?"

"That's the one!" Archie grinned.

His interest was piqued, and the added benefit of enjoying some of Mrs. Andrew's snacks sealed the deal. "Sounds good to me. A few hours of video games beats this any time."

"Wanna catch that new zombie flick afterwards?" the red-head asked. "The reviews haven't been that great, but its zombies so why not?"

Jughead took a loud slurp of his slushy. "Sorry, Arch. Got a prior engagement. Betty's making me dinner."

"Dinner?" Archie threw him a surprised look, which Jughead didn't really care to think upon. "What for?"

"Won a bet," he grinned.

Archie's look transformed to confusion before settling into something that was decidedly foreign on the red-head's face. "A bet, huh?" He turned his brown eyes forward, and sheepishly scratched the back of his neck. "How has Bets been doin' anyway? Haven't heard from her in a while."

Jughead shrugged, aware of the suddenly strained air around his buddy. "Not much different from the short time ago that you saw her."

Archie nodded without taking his eyes away from the concrete walkway before them. It was obvious that the guy had questions, and while Jughead usually didn't care for Archie's usual treatment of Betty, he didn't want to have his two friends part on such a negative note.

And, from what he was able to partially witness at the school track, it seemed pretty negative.

"What's on your mind, buddy?"

Archie shrugged, "I don't know. This thing with Bets, just really got me down."

"What do you mean? You two are still friends, right?"

"Well, yeah. But-"

"I thought that's what you wanted? Betty just as a friend so that you could focus on dating Ronnie."

Archie blinked as he realized that that was exactly what he had been telling Betty for the past few years. But, despite his claim at wanting her only as a friend, she had still perused him.

It was just the norm.

And, suddenly, it wasn't normal anymore.

For the first time in his life, Archie hadn't seen hide or hair of Betty for a few days. Not even a phone call.

"Not seeing Betty . . . or even hearing from her . . . it's like I've fallen in some kind of alternate universe, ya know?"

Jughead didn't know, but he nodded anyway. "Have you tried getting in touch with her?"

Archie grinned nervously. "Can you believe that I'm kind of afraid to?"

"Afraid? Arch, Betty is a great girl. She is almost as good at forgiving people as she is at cooking. It's not like she's going to tell you to never see her again."

"I know, I know," he groaned. "It's just so ODD." Archie paused and threw Jughead a glance. "What if she's fallen in love with some other guy? Do you think that's why she dumped me?"

This gave Jughead pause. As far as he knew, he was the only other guy besides Dillon and Chuck that Betty met with on a regular basis, and those two were taken. The image of Betty flirting with him the night before stole into his mind's eye, and looked away, not understanding the emotions warring in his chest. "As far as I know, she isn't dating anyone."

The blatant relief on Archie's face, irritated Jughead for some unknown reason. "Oh. Well, that's good, then."

He couldn't seem to help himself. "Why?"

"Why, what?"

"Why does it matter to you that Betty isn't dating anyone? I thought you didn't want to go out with her?"

"Well, yeah. I mean, I guess I wouldn't mind if she decided to date someone else as long as he was a good guy." Archie frowned in thought. "Just, you know . . . if another guy was the reason she left me, then it would probably piss me off. Like she thinks that someone else is better than me."

And, for the first time, Jughead couldn't translate that particular Archie-speak to something he could understand. Archie didn't want Betty to date, but he didn't want to date Betty? What the heck was that supposed to mean?

The conversation was getting a little too deep and complicated for him, and he shook his head. "Jealously doesn't suit you, Arch."

He groaned. "I know. I don't know why I let the entire female population get to me."

"No kidding." Finishing off the rest of the slushy, Jughead dropped the empty cup into the nearby trash can. The crushed ice sat in a freezing pile in the pit of his stomach."

Archie grinned at him. "But, you can keep an eye on her, right, buddy? She seems to hang around you more often lately. Maybe you can keep any guys from taking advantage of her."

Jughead frowned. "I'm not her keeper, Arch. I'm her friend. Why not just leave her be?"

"Please, Jug? Just as a favor."

The exasperation was exceeding his usual limit, and Jughead came to a stop. With a sigh, he shook his head, and ran his fingers through his hair, dislodging his crown beanie a bit. Sometimes, being best friends with a lady-killer was just too much trouble to deal with, and Jughead truly wondered how in the world Archie made it through the day without spontaneously serenading a female every five minutes.

It was enough to fray his last nerve.

"Look, Archie. I'm actually pretty tired. Let's do a rain-check on the game."

"Rain-check? Hey, wait-"

Jughead turned towards his neighborhood and tossed Archie a wave over his shoulder. "I'm going to nap this slushy off. Tell me how it is."

His long strides had taken him away till he was too far to hear Archie's response.

This was becoming a mess.

* * *

 

[Word Count: 2,015]


	14. Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There you were in your black dress  
> Moving slow to the sadness  
> I could watch you dance for hours  
> I could take you by my side

For a moment, Betty stood on the threshold between the kitchen and the living room and reveled in the experience of being the only living thing in the house. Her parents were out, enjoying a dinner with her father's co-workers, and she had full reign of the night.

She had known that her parents were quietly looking forward to this particular dinner (after all, it sung of a possible promotion, which just brought their dreams of retirement that much closer), so when Betty had promised a four course dinner to Jughead, she knew that this was the night to give it.

Archie had always poked fun at her innate problem of planning things five steps ahead of time. Maybe this particular gift would be lost on Jughead.

Which just made Betty's heart pound into overtime, bring her attention back to the kitchen, and make her wonder at the ODDITY of it all.

As she took a wooden spoon to the creamed potatoes, Betty distinctly felt like she had fallen into some kind of twilight zone: and it didn't seem to bother her in the least. Jughead had always been a solid male figure in her life, apart from her father. While flirting was always a favorite pastime in regards to the supposed 'he-man-woman-hater', cooking for him was just a part of their dynamic as friends. He was a shoulder to cry on, a guy to hang out with in comfortable clothes. A supportive leg in her vendetta to win Archie Andrew's heart.

It was a distinctly different situation to find her romantic inclinations turned towards someone she never considered boyfriend-material before. It was both terrifying and liberating.

Tonight was going to be her first official night of seduction. And, while it was fun to play around in Jughead's personal space during their little bowling tournament, blowing in his ear was relatively harmless.

This was different.

Betty was dressed in a fitted v-neck top that was the color of deep emerald and a pair of simple black dress pants. A silver loop adorned her left wrist and her hair was loosely braided down her back, a few strands of blond framing her face. It wasn't dressy, and Jughead probably wouldn't be able to tell the difference between this and her usual get-up, but it made her feel like tonight would have the possibly of being more than just retribution for losing a bet.

Pots bubbled and pans sizzled on the stove before her. A deep pan held a rack of lamb, which she was very lucky to get on a deal, garnished with rosemary roasted potatoes and drizzled in a shallot vinaigrette she had been dying to try: it had just been pulled out of the oven, and sat on a dish towel on the kitchen counter along with a pot of lemon-butter sugar snap peas with pine nuts, her mother's squash casserole, and mashed potatoes.

Technically, everything was ready. Now, it was just a matter of waiting since setting up the table felt too domestic even for her.

With a sigh, Betty hopped up on a spare space of countertop and sipped at a glass of lemonade. She was really itching to call SOMEONE to let them know about her plans. Of everything. When her everything was Archie, it was second nature to just call Midge, or Nancy, or Cheryl, or Ethel, or even Ronnie sometimes, to just talk about perspective dates or plans at nabbing the males of their affections. And, it was scary, attempting to earn Jughead's affection without the support of some of her girlfriends.

But even she had to admit. If she were to come out to ANYONE that she had romantic inclinations towards the one Jughead Jones, then they wouldn't believe her. Or, probably think that she had gone nuts from her little dump-Archie stunt.

It wasn't something she wanted to deal with right now.

It looked like she would be trekking into uncharted territory on her own.

Two distinct knocks on the front door caused her to still for just a moment of nervous terror, before she dropped from the counter, lowered the heat on the stove and walked as calmly as consciously possible towards the door. Severe will-power prevented her from one last mirror check before she pulled the front door open.

Jughead Jones stood at the front door step in a navy blue hoodie, the sleeves pushed up to his elbows to expose lightly tanned forearms, a new pair of jeans, tennis shoes, and no headgear. The lack of his signature beanie was easily overshadowed by the sight of his very nice forearms and lazy smile.

"Good evening, Betty."

Was it irrational to want to swoon so early in the game?

"Hello, Juggie," she smiled back and stepped aside to let him in. "You are right on time. I just finished everything up."

"I could smell you cooking up a storm three blocks away." He grinned, easing her from the entrance and closing the door behind himself. "When it comes to paying the piper, you really know how to outdo yourself."

"Hardly. I promised a dinner, and I will deliver." She threw him a pointed look as he followed her into the kitchen. "I hope you will return in kind when I win our next impromptu battle."

"I'm not racing you. Just thought I would go ahead and remove that from your list of dastardly plans."

Betty smiled at him. "I am sure I have no idea what you are talking about."

He rolled his eyes, but the grin never left his lips even when she handed him a plate and motioned to the variety of dishes on the stove and countertops.

"I figured we would do this buffet style. Load up your plate and we can enjoy in the den?" This was actually a deviation from their usual. Jughead was probably used to eating at her dining table with her running back and forth from the kitchen, but this time, she wanted to feel like she was a part of the meal instead of just the provider.

Jughead didn't seem to mind the change. "Sounds good to me," he threw over his shoulder as he started shoveling food on his plate. "Mind if we turn on the ball game?"

"Sure," Betty smiled, pausing to watch him move in the kitchen with ease. The few times Archie ventured into the kitchen, he waited for Betty or her mother to hand him the meal or beverage. Even years of friendship and dating didn't change his very obvious stance as a "guest" in the kitchen. With Jughead, he flawlessly incorporated himself within her home's walls.

Her memories took her back to a school project they were paired up for their sophomore year. For a week, Jughead and her had spread research and project drafts all over the Cooper's den. That first day, Betty's mom had brought trays of snacks to them every once in a while. Betty hadn't minded it, but the next day, Jughead took breaks from their project to venture into the kitchen himself for snacks. Betty never forgot the novelty of finding Jughead and her mother plating chips and cookies together in the kitchen, the teen sometimes grabbing ingredients from higher shelves for the shorter woman.

Archie never did that.

A smile felt permanently warmed upon her face, as Betty returned to the present and followed Jughead down the line of food to fill her own plate.

"Man, Bets. This looks amazing! Maybe I should just take all of these pots to the den with us." He wiggled his eyebrows at her. "It would be pretty rude of me to leave any leftovers after all."

"Trust me. I kept your monstrous appetite in mind when I whipped all this up. There won't be a speck of leftovers left, and the walk back here will do you some good." She nudged him aside with her hip. "Now, pass me a roll."

"Yes, ma'am." He passed one to her, and grabbed up two glasses of lemonade before following her to the den. "But, seriously. This stuff looks great. New recipes?"

"The squash casserole is my mom's recipe. I know you like that. Most of the side dishes aren't anything out of the ordinary but the lamb was bought on a deal. My mom and I are regulars at the butcher shop and the owner sold it to us at half price."

Jughead placed their drinks on the coffee table and plopped on her dad's recliner. "Well, I think I may have a new dish to add to my favorites! Thanks, Betty!"

"You're welcome." She laughed at his enthusiasm and sat on the closer end of the couch with her own plate.

The ball game was turned on, small talk was made, and company was enjoyed. Betty was a casual fan of basketball and didn't mind having it as a focal point while they sat together. It wasn't too different from private meals with Archie . . . in fact, it gave her the chance to blatantly stare at Jughead while he stuffed himself and focused on the game.

Betty hadn't expected Jughead to treat their dinner any different from any of their other shared meals, and she wasn't surprised. If he had shown up in date attire, she may have had a minor aneurism. He came as he was . . . but the minor details were loud enough for her to focus on.

New jeans?

No beanie?

Did he really brush his hair?

Betty swallowed a blush down with a fork full of mashed potatoes.

Jughead seemed unaware of her scrutiny, instead moaning at the right places when he took savory bites of the meal, and commenting on certain plays unfolding on screen.

"Maybe you should lose our bets more often," he polished off his plate and climbed to his feet. "This is pretty amazing, and I am ready for seconds!" He glanced at her before leaving the room and stopped. "You not hungry or anything, Bets?"

Realizing that she had been spending too much of her time watching him, she shook her head and tucked back into her meal. "Nope! I'm good. Just focused on the game!" she laughed, covering up her embarrassment. "Could you just bring the pitcher of lemonade when you come back?"

"Sure thing," he nodded, his steps quickening as he made his way back to the kitchen.

Betty took the chance to down her entire glass, and shook herself. This was getting ridiculous. She had known Jughead since they were kids, and contemplating possible feelings for him so soon after leaving Archie was messing with her head and her heart. She focused on her plate, eating through her meal methodically as she tried to figure out what to do.

Jughead was a friend. She was sure-absolutely sure-that if she did come out and confess to liking him, then even if he didn't reciprocate, he would still accept her as a friend. She wouldn't lose him.

But, if he liked her back . . .

The thought terrified her, and burned the hollow areas in her chest.

What if they tried to make it work, and it didn't?

What if it worked? What would their friends say?

What would Archie say?

Why the hell should she care what Archie thought?

She was halfway through the sugar snap peas when Jughead came back, his plate full, and lemonade pitcher in hand. "I think if I run in there a third time, there will be nothing left. You better hurry before I clean you out." He grinned, refilling her cup before putting the pitcher down and taking his seat. "What did I miss?"

"Nothing big," Betty lied, not wanting to admit that she hadn't absorbed even a minute of the game. Just what kind of host was she?

Jughead seemed to be able to see through her lie and cocked an eyebrow. "Got something in your mind, Sunshine? I thought tonight was a night to relax?"

She smiled at him and shrugged. "That's like telling you to go on a diet."

"Penny for your thoughts?"

Betty wondered why it surprised her so much that a guy would be willing to forgo a game that was playing just a few feet away from him to hear about a girl's thoughts. Especially when this particular male thought all girls had heads filled with absolute rabble.

It would be a wonder if she could get through this night with her heart intact.

She shook her head. "It's nothing, Juggie. Just eat and watch the game and let me be the good hostess."

"Last time I checked, you're Betty. My friend not a hostess," he smirked. "I mean, I usually shun chores like the plague, but I figure the least I can do is help you clean up a bit after this awesome meal."

"You, clean?"

"Well, maybe you have to promise another meal." Jughead chuckled, stuffing more food into his mouth. "Where are your parents anyway?"

"Business dinner. Dad may be a candidate for a promotion, so he took Mom along to make a good impression."

"Hm. Well, I would say that he should have invited them here to eat this, but then that would mean less for me. So I won't."

Betty laughed. "Oh, stop flattering me! You boys are all the same. Buttering up us gals just to get more of what you want."

"What can I say? It's an innate skill."

You use it too well. "Well, reign it in a bit." She shook her head and threw him a pointed look. "You know that you are welcome in this house for a meal anytime. Winning competitions or not."

Jughead's knowing smile would have weakened her knees if she were standing. "I know. It's part of what makes you the best."

It was getting oddly harder to breathe. So instead of replying, she just smiled at him.

"Aw geeze! 89! You know, that dummy has been losing balls left and right all night! I bet if that moron had even a lick of this casserole, the team would do ten times better than this joke."

And, that set the mood for the rest of the evening. They poked fun at the game, shared the rest of the meal, tore through a strawberry trifle, and Betty didn't once think about consequences and love. They joked through the kitchen clean up, and if they bumped shoulders or brushed fingers, then it wasn't noted upon out loud.

A few minutes before her parents were due home, Betty walked Jughead to the front door, laughing at the latest Jellybean and Hotdog mayhem. She leaned against his arm without a care as the laughter strained her midsection, and Jughead chuckled beside her, keeping an arm around her to make sure that they didn't crash to the ground.

"Thanks for the dinner, Betty," he cleared his throat. "It was the best."

"Thanks for coming," she replied, rubbing her hands over the back of his hoodie as he opened the door. "I had a lot of fun."

The cool night air sucked out some of the house's warmth, but it was a comfort on their faces as they stepped out to a night of stars. The neighborhood street was bare, and the sounds of crickets filled the air.

"I'll be seeing you on the walk to school on Monday then?" He joked, a smile lighting up his eyes.

Betty smiled, nodding back. She was going to look forward to their morning walks. Their school-day meetings and their routine afterschool hang-outs with the rest of the gang at Pop's.

She was going to look forward to future dinner requests and kindly turn them down in an effort to retain her sanity.

She would keep Jughead.

And he could keep calling her "the best."

It was a nice inner monologue. A nice thought to end the night.

Then, she made the mistake that would probably ruin the rest of her high school life.

"Thank you, Juggie."

"For what?"

"Everything," and she reached up and pressed her lips to the right corner of his.

* * *

 

[Word Count: 2,694]


	15. Flexible

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She believes that life is made up of all that you're used to  
> And the clock on the wall has been stuck at three for days, and days  
> She thinks that happiness is a mat that sits on her doorway  
> But outside it's stopped raining

The track meet between Riverdale and Central was next week, and on Monday, Jughead found himself sitting on the track bleachers with a few other students after school. He sat on the top row, an ice box beside him filled with water and ice pops. Veronica and Cheryl sat on the row right in front of him, waving blue flags, cheering the Riverdale team on, and bickering with each other in five minute intervals.On the track field, the school's male and female track teams were warming up and listening to Coach Clayton deliver a pre-practice pep talk. Betty was in the midst of it all, soaking up the competitive vibes and cracking jokes with her teammates.

Or, whatever it was that athletes did in large groups.

It was honestly too far for Jughead to see, especially with the glaring sun. And, on that note, his thoughts derailed to the night before.

She had kissed him.

Sure, they had shared kisses before, but it was usually just to pick fun at each other. Or at Archie. All in good fun.

There was never any real meaning behind it.

But, last night.

She had kissed him.

The suddenness of the act had frozen him, and she had pulled back before he could react. Betty just smiled, like she hadn't just split his world open, touched his face and wished him good night.

And, as he walked back home, Jughead wondered what was scarier: the fact that the kiss didn't repulse him or the fact that he wanted to walk back to that empty house and kiss her back.

The thought was so unlike him, he ran the rest of the way home to burn off some energy.

And, the next morning, they met on their usual route to school.

Jughead had to admit, that he had spent most of the night—and half a chocolate cake—wondering exactly what was going to change between them. The thought of possibly losing her was enough to make him sick.

Was she going to be there in the morning? Would she talk to him?

Was she still going to bring him lunches?

An entire morning of depressingly frantic thoughts went to waste, however, when Jughead turned a street corner and spotted Betty, standing under the rising sun light, a smile on her face and the lunch tote in her left hand.

The urge to kiss her had returned.

He both hated the fact that he had to see her so soon before he could fully grasp his confusion and felt a gut-deep relief that she was still keeping him in her life. They walked side by side, her tote in his hand and her smile on his face.

They didn't touch the entire way, which left Jughead feeling oddly bereft of her arms around him.

Which, of course, just irritated him more.

This was just proof: women were beyond exasperating.

"GO RIVERDALE!"

"Bring home the gold!"

"Silver is okay, too! Just crush Central!"

"Silver? What the hell, Cheryl. If you can't even cheer right then don't bother!"

"Don't be such a bitch, Veronica. I can't be too supportive of a school that isn't even my own."

"Then why are you here?" The brunette ground her teeth.

"Why, for dear Betty of course! I don't care for the rest of you commoners."

"Commoners?"

Jughead could practically see her hackles rising.

Women were indeed irritating.

With practiced ease, he tuned them out as the track teams took their positions and transitioned from warm-up to work-out. Jughead chugged down half his drink as his eyes followed the familiar blond head of hair settle into position before starting her rounds around the track. Coach Chuck dutifully stood on the sidelines calling out commands with his timer in hand. All around him, students continued to cheer with renewed vigor, calling out names of their friends to the Spring air.

And, that pretty much set the mood for the rest of the hour. Students on the stand supporting those on the track while Jughead's attention wavered between watching the track team run, focusing on Betty in particular, and remembering the dinner from before.

For a guy who could comfortably claim to have a very simple thought process, having his head filled with complicated emotions was annoying as hell. So, the natural course of his thoughts led him to try to think up a solution.

How does one fix a brain that is fixated on a female friend?

If it weren't for the female in question, Jughead would have asked Archie long ago.

"Oh my God. Look!" Veronica's startled gasp caught his attention as she climbed to her feet in front of him and pointed off to their left. "What the heck is Central doing here?"

Jughead looked up, and sure enough, four guys, all donned in their school's red and white climbed out of an old Camero. And, in true Central style, stood in a solid flank: a living wall of tall, lean, muscle and fancy hair-cuts.

Even Jughead felt mildly appalled by the blatant show of testosterone. Closing his icebox, he used his Converse clad foot to slide it under his seat before climbing to his feet to see over the rest of the students on the bleachers. Most of the students in the area were well aware of Central's mean competitive streak. While they made it perfectly clear that they were confident in their athletic abilities, they were never above a little bit of foul play to ensure victory in ANY competition.

Under hooded lids, Jughead quickly located Betty, who was currently at the forefront of the cluster of Riverdale track members, her bronze skin glowing under the beating sun as she faced the approaching thugs, fists solidly placed on her hips.

"Where did Coach Clayton go?" A nearby student asked.

"I'm not sure. I think he went in to answer a call a little while ago. God. This just figures."

As Central finally stopped just a few feet from the track team, Jughead's feet unconsciously took him down the bleachers and to the chain link fence. Muscles tensed up for any sudden actions.

In the distance, he watched the two teams meet head-to-head, the guys from Central clearly doing what they could to taunt their competition while some of the Riverdale track team yelled back with fists raised and arms crossed. In the midst of it all, Betty was an unmovable force, her glare trained singularly on the intruders. Her lips were pursed tightly, not bothering to speak a single word and letting her actions speak for her.

"God. Betty is such an idiot." Veronica grumbled from her spot by Jughead.

The male in question missed the fact that she had crept up beside him and turned his frown towards her. "What?"

Veronica's eyes didn't dare pull away from the confrontation in the distance. "Look. I am all for women's independence and women power and all that, but Betty has no business facing four full grown apes.

ESPECIALLY from Central." Her voice was laced with worry. "She could really get hurt if they get stupid enough to start something physical."

It was on the tip of his tongue to point out the Betty could take care of herself, but as he looked at her, standing bravely between her team and theirs, he realized just how small she was. She barely reached his nose when they stood side by side, and the four guys she currently faced now were easily a head and a half taller than her.

Worry laced through his veins as he tightened his grip on the fence.

"Hey! I see Coach! He's coming, guys!"

The four thugs seemed to be aware that their time was up and threw a few last words at the group before beating a hasty retreat back to their car. It didn't escape Jughead's attention when one of the guys, dark hair slicked back into a tight pony tail, leered at Betty before following his posse off the field.

Betty didn't seemed bothered by the action, instead opting to ignore the vulgar attention before turning back to her team, probably trying to bring back the team morale before finishing up their practice.

Cheryl breathed a sigh from Jughead's other side. "Thank God that's over. That could have turned out much worse than it did."

"Somebody must have gone to get Coach." Veronica nodded in agreement. "And, with the competition being so close, this will probably happen again."

"We should make sure that Betty doesn't practice alone anymore." Cheryl frowned. "At least until next week's meet."

Veronica's hand landed on Jughead's unresponsive shoulder. "That won't be a problem. Juggie has been a faithful fan! I think he has been here after school for the past few days, cheering Betty on."

Cheryl rolled her eyes. "Jughead as a bodyguard? Please~"

The two girls wandered back to the bleachers with the rest of the crowd, the excitement clearly over as the track team went back to finishing up their runs and cooling down. Jughead kept his place by the fence, watching as Betty continued talking and laughing like nothing had happened.

It was typical Betty. If anything, her strength lay in the fact that she could keep moving on no matter what stood in her way. Be it a bunch of gorillas from a rival school, a difficult math problem, or even Archie. Facing her troubles and coming out in the end stronger and more confident was what made Betty such an amazing girl—no, woman. Betty was an amazing woman.

And, standing under the sun, with the hot metal fence between his fingers, Jughead recalled the past few days he spent being with Betty, eating with Betty, laughing with Betty, dreaming about Betty. Despite his confusion with hanging with "Archie's girl," he now had to face the fact that she was no longer Archie's. She was Betty.

He enjoyed her company and her attention, and if he read her right, then she enjoyed his company and attention, too.

Jughead did not like girls. That would never change.

But, Betty wasn't a girl. She was Betty.

A great cook, beautiful, strong, brave, and the proud owner of the best cranberry-apple pie recipe in the entire universe.

How does one fix a brain that is fixated on a female friend?

Jughead decided that it was something that wasn't fixable.

His brain obviously knew something that he didn't—if that made any sense—and it was his job to take this as a sign.

His next step.

Betty's laughter reached him as she threw a towel around her neck, enjoying a joke cracked off by her teammate.

Jughead did not like girls.

He liked Betty.

* * *

 

[Word Count: 1,790]


	16. Flying

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raise your glass  
> We have incorporated  
> Place your bets  
> We're all so sick of waiting  
> Queen takes jack  
> You got me this time but I'll get you back  
> So pick a number

Betty began to wonder if she had inadvertently slipped poison into her roasted potatoes.Her mother had rearranged the spice cabinet earlier in the week. Maybe she had accidentally placed a bottle of her hormonal medication in there with the rosemary and seasoning salts.

Betty realized that she was grasping at straws here, but she was looking for something—anything—that would explain Jughead's sudden attachment to her.

Well, attachment in Jughead-speak. He was the same ol' Juggie: lazy, smart, hungry, and inexplicably attractive. But, now, there was just more of him.

He walked her to class. Showed up promptly after class to walk her to the next one. Stood silently by her side as she engaged in the usual small talk in the hallways (he even threw in his two cents during said conversations, which was nice, but decidedly odd since he usually didn't bother with female small talk).

And, was he wearing a tighter shirt?

Maybe she had accidentally poisoned herself.

Which left her in the final period of the day, unable to listen to a single word of the lecture, and completely aware of the boy sitting just two desks behind her.

What the hell was going on?

After finally making a good decision on her part, Jughead goes all noble on her. How the heck was she supposed to be blissfully single if the boy of her newly discovered affections insisted on making himself more attractive and lovable?

Betty buried her fingers into her hair, but barely suppressed the urge to yank the strands in irritation.

What could have possibly change in the span of a day? If she recalled yesterday correctly, Jughead was his usual self. In fact, it was as if her kiss had never happened.

They had lunch. He was at practice, which was uneventful until the team from Central decided to pay them a visit with vulgar insults. He walked her home, and that was that.

Then this morning rolls around and HE'S the one at the end of the street waiting for her.

With an honest-to-God smile just for her and a nearly form-fitting shirt she was pretty sure she had NEVER seen him wear before.

She simultaneously wanted to run in the other direction and jump him in the middle of the sidewalk.

That, unfortunately, seemed to set the tone for the entire day. And, six hours later, she was no closer to understanding what in the world had gotten into her friend.

Or how to fix it.

Pages of notebooks flipped around her, forcing her to realize that she was way too far behind to catch the rest of the lecture. She made a mental note to ask Dilton for a copy of his notes before sitting releasing her hair and picking up her pencil.

She could at least look like she was paying attention.

Betty spent the last half hour making a list of reasons why Jughead was going insane (she half wondered if his mad-scientist uncle was to blame). When the last bell of the school day rang, she snapped her notebook shut and leaned back with a groan as her classmates launched into post-school action.

"How ya doin', Bets?"

"Hey, Archie." Betty smiled at the redhead as he took the abandoned seat beside her. "I'm good. You?"

"Not bad," he shrugged, "Just thought I'd check up with you."

Betty expected to feel a little bit of guilt at the realization that she had indeed seen less and less of Archie ever since their "breakup," but in truth their paths rarely crossed unless they were actively searching for each other. Which didn't exactly happen very much on Archie's part if she could be perfectly honest with herself.

"I'm sorry, Archie," she offered him a small smile. "A lot has been going on. How have you and Ronnie been?"

"Ah . . . good. Ronnie and I have been doing really good." He picked at the corner of his textbook. "She told me about what happened at the practice meet yesterday. You all right?"

"Oh, I'm fine." She waved his concern off. "They just threw a few taunts then left. No biggie."

"Still. It must have been pretty scary. Ron said that you were right up in their faces."

"Yeah, well Veronica knows how to stretch the truth." Betty busied herself with getting her things together, not really in the mood to deal with Archie right now.

She heaved a mental sigh. Who would have thought that one day Betty Cooper would have boy problems?

"Hey, buddy."

Speak of the devil . . .

Betty considered it a personal victory that she didn't jump out of her skin when Jughead's jean-clad thigh pressed against her elbow.

"Hey, Jug." Archie threw his friend a smile, comforted by the presence of a fellow male. "Ya up for some pizza tonight? Guys night out at Pop's."

Betty didn't dare turn to see Jughead's response, her body oddly incapable of movement.

"Sounds like a plan. I'll catch up with you guys later. I have to ask Betty something."

The surprise on Archie's face mirrored her own. "Sure. We're all meeting up in about an hour." He climbed to his feet and hefted his books under the crook of his arm before aiming his usual charming smile at her. "Can we catch up later, Bets?"

Betty honestly couldn't recall responding. The next thing she knew, Archie was engaging in some kind of male hand-shaking ritual with Jughead before trotting out of the classroom, a little hop in his step.

Then she was alone.

With Jughead.

And, his tighter-than-usual t-shirt.

Clearly unaware of her less than pure thoughs—or else he would probably be half-way across the city by now—Jughead strattled the seat of the desk in front of her, crossing his very nice arms and leaning against her desk space.

She cleared her throat. "Hey."

Jughead smirked. "Hey, Sunshine."

Betty needed to go run off some energy NOW. "You needed to ask me something, Juggie?"

"Yeah. The parents are going out tonight, and Jellybean and I are going to be home alone. Unfortunately, Jelly has some kind of arts-and-crafty project she needs done and it needs female assistance."

Baby-sitting. Jughead was asking her to help baby-sit. Relief washed over her. This was normal. Normal she could deal with.

She smiled. "Sure thing! When would you like to head over?"

"How does seven-thirty sound?"

"Perfect! Is there anything in particular I need to bring?"

"Nah. Mom's got plenty of left-over's and snacks and Jelly has everything she needs for the project. Kindergarden stuff. Her teacher provides it."

Thoughts of seeing Jellybean again relaxed her, and Betty felt the day's stress and confusion melt away.

Then, as Jughead said his good-bye and confirmed their meeting time, his hand brushed hers and it all came back again.

Betty pushed herself extra hard on the track that afternoon.

* * *

 

[Word Count: 1,144]


	17. Food

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I haven't left you for days now  
> And, I'm becoming amazed how  
> You're quite affectionate in public.  
> In fact, your friend said it made her sick.

Jughead is a man of habit. If he wants something, he goes for it until he has it.

Usually, what he wants is food. And, one way or another, he gets it.

Now, that he had come to terms with this new need to have more Betty in his life, Jughead wondered how in the world he was supposed to fulfill this need.

After all, Betty was not food.

But, if she were, this would be A LOT easier.

Jughead stood in his kitchen, staring at an open set of cabinets while Jellybean sat at the kitchen table behind him, her legs swinging in time with the jingle flowing from the living room television. He could feel her curious eyes on him as she dug into her Snack-pack, her cheerleader teddy bear by her side.

"When is Betty coming?"

"Soon." He threw over his shoulder without thought. Making a decision, he grabbed a bag of trail mix and poured it into a large plastic bowl.

All right.

Seduction. Judging from Archie's experiences with seduction (which is actually pretty reliable in hindsight, since girls seem to fall at his feet), seduction requires a nice dinner. Preferably with candle light. And, something with whipped cream.

And, while Jughead could appreciate anything with whipped cream, he wasn't a huge fan of candles unless it was on a 12-layer birthday cake.

So candles were out of the question.

Which left the whipped cream. It wouldn't mix well with the trail mix, and Jughead began to wrack his brain for something that would go well with the whipped confection. He grabbed the can of whipped topping without really thinking about it, scanning through the other shelves in the fridge for anything.

Jellybean's legs stilled for a millisecond before regaining an invigorating tempo of ups and downs. "Ooh! Are you making hot-chocolate for us? I really, really, really want some!"

And, who said little sisters were a curse?

"If you promise to be on your best behavior." Jughead straightened, and made a bee-line for the cabinet that held the house's coffee and hot-chocolate supply. Hot-chocolate. Easy to make. Romantic. Not so much. With a touch of whipped cream? Voilà!

Romance in a mug.

There was a knock at the front door, just as Jughead pulled out the teapot, and before he could do a thing, Jellybean jumped from her seat with a loud "I've got it!" before speeding away.

He opted to mask the sudden appearance of his nerves with the monotony of filling the teapot with water from the tap.

"Betty!"

"Good evening, sweetie! How are you doing tonight?"

"Jughead is making us hot chocolate! Do you like hot chocolate, Betty?"

"You bet!"

"Look, at my bear! Mommy said I was a good girl and I was able to make her at the mall. See! She is a cheerleader just like you!"

Betty's laughter seemed to soak into the walls as he heard the two females near the kitchen, and Jughead couldn't help the small smile that snuck onto his face as he placed the teapot on the stove and turned on the correct burner. The blond stepped into the kitchen, Jellybean firmly planted on her hip as she listened to the little rug rat talk a mile a minute. The two teens shared a smile in greeting, not bothering to interrupt the six-year-old. The girls took a seat at the kitchen table, and Jughead busied himself with spooning cocoa mix into three distinctly different mugs, sneaking glances at the table in the corner of his eyes.

Betty always seemed softer when they weren't at school. While she was the same fun-loving Betty during the day, the afternoons and evenings seemed to bring about a special kind of calm about her. The day-time energy she usually radiated was toned down to a calm glow, evidenced through her relaxed shoulders and the soft lines of her smiles. Tonight, her hair was left down, brushed into smooth waves just past her shoulders instead of her characteristic ponytail. She wore a blue, unbuttoned cardigan over a white, lace trimmed camisole and a knee-length jean skirt. Nothing truly exceptional, but Jughead was man enough to appreciate how well the clothes wrapped her toned figure.

And, was it just the light, or did her clavicles look sinfully lickable?

The tea pot whistled harshly through his brain, as the water came to a full boil, snapping him back to the counter in time to hide what he was sure was a blush.

Clavicles? Lickable?

This was getting ridiculous.

Forcing thoughts of licking Betty's coffee-ice cream colored skin to the back of his brain, Jughead managed to fill the three mugs without spilling scalding water all over himself and the counter. The girls' chatter blended in with the noise from the television, and he managed to focus on that while he stirred the chocolate and sprayed a healthy dose of whipped cream into each mug.

"Why don't you go get your project so that we can get started?" Betty chimed.

"Ok! I'll get the stuff out of my room." Jellybean dropped down from her seat and secured her bear to the chair. "Don't start on the hot chocolate without me!"

Jughead managed to roll his eyes as his sister ran deeper into the house, Betty's chuckles nipping at her heels.

Betty's smile was then focused on him, as he placed the three mugs on the table and slid the blue one towards her. "Thank you, Juggie."

He returned the smile as he took a seat across from her. "No problem. Though, I should be thanking you for agreeing to come. Can't say I'm very partial to arts-and-crafts of the kindergarten variety."

Her elegant hands wrapped around the warm mug as she gave him a modest shrug. "I really missed Jellybean. Plus, I get the royal treatment." Her smile widened as she motioned to the chocolate and trail mix. "Seemed like a win-win situation to me."

"Yeah, well, don't get used to it. Eating is much more preferable to cooking." Which was a complete lie. Jughead knew for a fact that he would make her anything if she kept looking so freaking perfect in his house.

"I'll keep that in mind," she chuckled.

"Here I am!" Jellybean announced as she stomped back into the kitchen, her arms laden with construction paper and a plastic basket of supplies.

Betty took the bear into her arms, to allow Jellybean freedom to get back in her seat while Jughead moved the bowl and mugs aside to give her room to spread her things on the table.

"We have to make an Indian teepee!" The six year old declared, spreading out her tools. "Mrs. Freeman said that we could use anything we want, so I want to use these buttons and feathers." She held up a bright orange feather for Betty's perusal. "We have to make it reeeealy pretty."

Betty shared an amused glance with him before focusing her full attention on the child. "Well, buttons and feathers sound like a perfect idea for a teepee."

"I know." Jellybean glowed under the approval. "We can try our chocolate now and make the best teepee ever!"

Since there wasn't really anything else for Jughead to do, he was content with sitting at the kitchen table as the girls got to work with crayons and glue. He propped his chin in his hand and contentedly munched on the trail mix and sipped at his drink as he watched under hooded lids. He wasn't bothered at all when the two didn't include him in the conversation and project aside from asking him on his opinion on the placement of a feather or button. He knew "girl-time" when he saw it, and it made him feel satisfied to see that Jellybean could indulge in some "girl-time" with someone who could positively influence her. It was no secret that Betty was great with children, and it wasn't the first time that Jughead entertained the passing thought that the blond would one day make an amazing mother. She was patient and engaged with the littlest of things, more than content with letting a child lead the way.

Betty was blatantly unlike many of the girls who attended Riverdale High, eager to be the center of attention and the leader of daily plans. Jughead wasn't blind to Ronnie's clear control of her and Archie's relationship, and while it seemed to work between the two of them, he couldn't imagine being attached to a woman like that.

Maybe that's what appealed Betty to him.

Then again . . . Betty had always been like that. Considerate, kind, bright, supportive, smart, independent, a great cook with a shared appreciation for food. Since they were kids, really.

This thought prompted Jughead to search for the exact time when Betty had crossed the thirty-mile-wide-line between friend and "something more than a friend."

"All right, Jellybean. I'll hold it together, and you tape it. Ok?"

His little sister took a hold of the tape dispenser with no little bit of glee, ready to weld it against any insidious crafts.

Jughead frowned. "Try not to go overboard, squirt."

"I won't," she declared, pulling out a strip of tape that was nearly five inches too long.

Betty chuckled around his dramatic eye-roll, and despite the tape, the project eventually turned into the most colorful and feathery teepee ever created by man. The girls assured him that it was the desired product.

He shoved another handful of trail mix into his mouth.

With the project successfully completed, Jughead quickly instructed his little sister to get herself ready for bed before they popped in a movie. Excited at the thought of a movie night on a school night, Jellybean complied without argument, running off with a loud promise that they would be watching a supposedly awesome movie about rainbow elves.

Something that was decidedly unromantic.

He groaned. "That's what I get for letting a six-year old dictate a movie night."

"Aw. You are a good brother." Betty grinned, as she picked up her and Jellybean's empty cocoa mugs.

Jughead followed her to the sink with his own cup and the empty trail mix bowl. "I shouldn't encourage her. She gets spoiled enough by everyone else in this house."

Without a thought, Betty took up a sponge and began cleaning out their mugs. "Of course. She's the baby of the house. I was the baby of the house until Chic and Polly moved out."

Snatching the sponge away from her, Jughead ignored her surprised look. "Last I checked, I invited you over to help babysit. Not house clean."

A slim eyebrow arched at him. "Last I checked, I usually help with the post-Jellybean clean up." She reached out to take the sponge back, but Jughead's longer arm kept it out of reach.

The indignation that colored her cheeks made him want to kiss her, but he held the impulse back to bodily scoot her away from the sink while taking the sudsy mug from her other hand. "Just relax. I'll take care of it."

Pouting, she crossed her arms and rested a hip on the counter. "Look at who's being stubborn."

"Call it what you like. I'm not going to make a guest do the dishes after helping my sister finish her art project."

"I'm not a guest, Juggie. I'm your friend."

Was she?

Putting the mugs on the drying rack, Jughead replaced the sponge and shut the sink off before turning to Betty.

His eyes were immediately drawn to the tanned skin of her neck and clavicles. Coffee ice cream. Betty always had coffee ice cream skin during the summer seasons. During the colder months, her skin surprisingly retained the healthy color despite the lack of vitamin D.

"Juggie?"

His eyes drew back up to her baby blues, which considered him with slight wariness.

It was a feeling he could understand.

When? When did Betty start to become something more?

"Are you?" he asked.

She blinked in confusion. "Am I what?"

"My friend."

Slowly, her confusion began to fade into uncertainty. Her stature immediately shifted from comfort to defensive. He could almost see her begin to curl into herself, and he knew he needed to stop her from curling completely away.

He stepped towards her, backing her into the corner of the kitchen as her eyes grew wider. He stopped almost an inch from her, not touching. He only stood a little bit taller than her, but she still looked so small, with her eyes riveted on him and her hands clasped to her chest.

If he leaned forward just a little, he would be able to reach her lips.

"Are you just my friend, Sunshine?"

He didn't miss the slight trembling of her shoulders, but he refused to back down. He needed to know. What did she mean by the kiss the other night? Did she still care for Archie like she had since they were kids?

Could she come to care for him like she had for his best friend?

Her eyes shut tightly, seemingly to regroup and settle herself before answering. Jughead didn't push her into hurrying for an answer, but he refused to step back.

He honestly didn't know if he could if he wanted to.

Her eyes hesitantly reopened as the trembling stopped. "No."

Jughead didn't allow himself to feel. "No?"

"No. I'm . . . I'm not just your friend."

"Then what are you to me, Betty?"

Her shoulders dropped for only a second before squaring back. Her eyes seemed to darken as she reached deep down for some inner strength. "It depends, Jughead. What are you to me?"

It took a considerable amount of inner strength to keep himself from breaking into a huge grin. Jughead wondered just where Betty kept her bottomless fountain of spunk. Even as she stood, cornered in his kitchen and facing him like she did to those from Central, not backing down.

And, obviously not thinking about Archie at all.

He leaned forward just a little, and her eyes widened comically once again.

"I'll let you be the judge of that."

Kissing someone is not like being kissed.

Before, Jughead had stood impassively as the woman before him had placed a kiss to the corner of his lips. That kiss had haunted him in his waking hours.

This one would haunt him in his dreams.

Her lips were soft under his. Like cherry marshmallows, lightly glazed over with some fruity, girly lip gloss. Her eyelashes fluttered against his cheek, and she gasped against him, allowing Jughead to lean in deeper for a taste that was utterly and completely Betty Cooper. With a hint of hot-chocolate and whipped cream.

Jughead found himself instantly addicted.

Leaning back, he broke the kiss and smirked at the view of a decidedly breathless Betty, her eyes half-lidded and her cheeks mimicking the redness of her mouth.

Thinking that his point was clearly made, Jughead took a step back to give himself a little room to breathe before reaching up and brushing a stray strand of gold hair from her temple. "What do ya think, Bets?"

She responded by gripping the front of his red hoodie and pulling him back in for another kiss.

It was just as good as the last one.

* * *

 

[Word Count: 2,556]


	18. Foot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elderly stars slide down the morning sky  
> Slipping away to find a place to die  
> I wonder when the night will reach its end  
> The sleep is not my friend

Betty's body ran on auto-pilot all day Friday. It was the day before the highly anticipated meet and the day after her amazing make-out session with the decidedly romantic Jughead Jones.

Each class was spent daydreaming about his lean form pressed against her, willingly kissing her, and keeping her pressed against the kitchen counter while her knees turned to jelly. She didn't know where Jughead learned to do that with his tongue, but now she felt like he had ruined all other kisses for her.

Knowing the little sneak, that was probably his intention.

Jughead Jones. Romantic and an amazing kisser.

Who would have known?

Unfortunately, this particular Friday was uncharacteristically busy. Coach had called the team in for a pre-game pep talk during lunch and made plans for an after school meeting to give them a chance to study a few clips of Central's past meets. This meant no time for a repeat performance of the night before.

In fact, it meant fewer chances to see Juggie for an entire day, which was disheartening to say the least.

Her only consolations throughout the day were the ten-minute breaks between classes.

As usual, Jughead was there to walk her to the next class. Typical in his nonchalant ways. Half-lidded eyes. Bored expression. Jeans and t-shirt featuring the latest popular game. Poptart in mouth more often than not.

It was like the night before had never happened, and they were still just high-school buddies. At first, his lack of change worried her. Did he regret the night before? Was the whole thing just some painful delusion her brain had made up?

Her worry must have been evident, because the next thing she knew, he was rolling his eyes with that grin of his and threading his fingers through the soft hairs at the nape of her neck as they walked side by side to Mrs. Grundy's.

Not shoving him against the lockers and having her way with him was the hardest thing she had ever done.

Remembering each secret little touch throughout the day, Betty lay on her comforters in a pair of soft pajama bottoms and spaghetti strap. Her homework was done and the rest of the house was asleep, but she still felt restless. Coach Kleats had advised everyone on the team to take a rest on the day before the meet, so she hadn't done her usual run today. But, her body was humming with barely suppressed energy.

Blue eyes glanced at the clock to read the digitized time.

10:30pm.

Betty decided that a run was in order. Just a short one. To help her clear her head and burn off a little bit of excess energy.

Sliding out of bed, she quickly slipped into a pair of shorts and t-shirt before tying on her lucky pair of sneakers. Her steps were light as she traversed down to the second floor of the house and safety-pinned her copy of the house key to her sleeve before locking the door securely behind her.

The night air was cool against her exposed skin, and she smiled as she took in a deep breath, tapping her toes on the concrete before beginning a light jog down the walk way to the sidewalk. Once she reached a comfortable tempo, she allowed her mind to wander.

Nighttime was her favorite time to run. Most of the town was asleep and quiet, and she could almost imagine being the only person alive. Not a care in the world.

She didn't have to worry about Archie or Ronnie or school or the future.

Running at night was just therapy before. Now . . .

Now. Betty didn't think about being the only person alive. She was more than happy knowing that there was another person just a stone-throw away who ACTUALLY returned her affections. Someone who wouldn't juggle her with another woman.

Betty smiled at the thought. No. Her only competition would probably be of the food variety, and that was a heck of a lot easier to deal with than the beautiful daughter of a multi-billionaire.

As the sidewalk became uneven, Betty's solid steps transferred her to the asphalt, completely void of any traffic. Basking in the freedom, she moved to the serrated yellow line at the center of the road and used it as her guide.

Through the neighborhood, around the outskirts, then right back in.

A route she claimed as her own.

She entertained the thought of Jughead joining her during her late night jogs, but the chances of him willingly exerting himself was very slim.

Not that they would be jogging for very long if it was just the two of them.

Betty's laughter left her breathless at that passing thought. In just a few weeks, she had changed from a devout Archie-worshiper, to an independent woman, to the possible object of Jughead Jones's affection. It seemed like so much change in such little time, but Betty couldn't help but wonder if this change of events was a long time coming.

After all, it wasn't as if the two of them were complete strangers. They knew each other. They grew up together.

In some strange sense, they knew what they were getting into.

But, at the same time, this was all so NEW.

Exiting the neighborhood and taking a quick right, Betty began to wonder how she would start accumulating photographs of the lovable glutton. Most of what she had now were group photos, and more often than not, he was in the background with part of his face obscured by some kind of edible object. Jughead rarely seemed to be in a photogenic mood.

This would mean resorting to sneakier means.

Betty could do sneaky.

Her thoughts sporadically wavered between Jughead and the track meet tomorrow as she continued her path around the perimeter of the neighborhood. Spotting the entrance back in ahead, Betty jolted in surprise when bright headlights splashed on behind her, nearly blinding in its intensity. Willing her heart to calm, she quickly moved away from the center of the road to the strip of concrete parallel to the sidewalk.

She expected the car to continue on its merry way ahead of her.

The honk of the car's horn was accompanied by a wave of cheers and calls, Betty's curiosity got the better of her as she slowed her steps and glanced over her shoulder.

The electric red jeep was so brand new, even the blanket of darkness couldn't hide its shine. The intensity of the headlights forced her to squint, and she didn't miss the small twin flags hanging from the passenger and driver side windows.

Red and white.

Arms waved around, slapping at the side of the jeep and swinging what looked like bottles and cans of beer. Betty frowned at the sight, wondering what the hell a bunch of Central croneys were doing out drinking and driving on a school night (or drinking and driving at all).

It was only when the hulking figure that occupied the passenger seat of the jeep climbed to his feet and pointed straight at her with a wild call, that Betty began to feel fear spike through her chest.

The thundering beat of her heart echoed in her ears, muffling what he was yelling, but it became a moot point when everyone in the car cheered in response, and the tires squealed upon the cool asphalt.

Every organ in Betty's body dropped to her feet at the exact time the adrenaline surged through her veins. She was unable to spare the energy to scream, before focusing her entire attention on running as fast as she could for the turn into her neighborhood, the jeep in fast pursuit.

Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God. They are going to hit me. They are going to hit me. I'm going to die. They are coming too fast. They are going to hit me. Oh my God. They are coming too fast.

I'm going to die!

Air burned through her chest and throat, as Betty felt the earth shake with each inch the jeep made towards her. Cheers and hoots licking at her heels as she tried to force herself to move faster.

FASTER.

FASTER.

FASTER!

A scream ripped through the air, as Betty quickly threw herself to the right and into the safety of the housing area, the toe of her sneakers loosing grip on the edge of the sidewalk and twisting her into the air and onto the concrete just as the jeep sped by her.

Each heavy gasp of breath strained her lungs and the cold concrete bit into her hands, face, arms, and legs, but she didn't dare move until the roar of the jeeps engine faded into the distance.

I'm alive.

Betty's sob stung her raw throat as she sagged into a boneless heap of relief on the ground.

I'm alive I'm alive I'm alive I'm alive.

Lucky sneakers, indeed.

Pushing herself up, she focused on regulating her breathing before a sharp pain brought her attention to what was most likely a twisted ankle. Betty's limbs were still shaking from the adrenaline as she carefully reached down and slid off her sneaker before rolling down the top of her sock.

The dim glow of the nearby lamp post showed clear evidence of what was bound to be a dark bruise.

"Crap . . ." she hissed through her teeth as she rolled the sock back up and stretched her leg back out. "Crap crap crap crap crap."

Letting the coldness of the ground seep into her skin, Betty looked back up where the jeep had drove off. Anger quickly replaced the fear that had consumed her just a minute ago as she glared out into the night.

"Shit!"

Central. Stupid, stupid Central!

If they thought for one single second that this would win them the meet tomorrow, then they had another freaking thing coming to them! Betty seethed as she climbed to her feet, sneaker in hand as she favored her twisted ankle. She should have expected it. Those monsters from Central never played fair, doing what they could to ensure that the favor was in their court.

Well, they were messing with the wrong blond.

As she limped her way back home, she swore an oath to do what she could to ensure that Riverdale won.

Fair and square.

* * *

 

[Word Count: 1,737]


	19. Grave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's hard to say what it is I see in you  
> Wonder if I'll always be with you  
> But word's can't say, and I can't do  
> Enough to prove,  
> It's all for you

Jughead hadn't woken up early enough to catch Betty before she went to the Riverdale track for the meet, but he was one of the first to arrive at the bleachers, a cooler in one hand, and a Riverdale flag in the other. Taking a seat at the very top, for optimal viewing, Jughead dropped his cooler down to mark his space before looking out onto the track to spot a particular blond.

On one side of the track, stood a group of Central track team members, all decked out in white and red as they warmed up and cut up with each other. On the other, he spotted the home team, emblazoned with their blue and whites as they warmed up around Coach Kleats and Coach Clayton.

Betty sat on the outskirts of their group, her back to him as she stretched out her legs.

"You are here early, Jughead!"

He turned his attention towards Midge who was standing off to the side with a microphone in hand. Behind her, Dilton was putting together one of the school's video cameras.

Jughead nodded at them as Midge approached. "Hey."

She smiled at him. "This meet is one of the most anticipated events of the summer. The Film Club wants to catch every second of it."

Jughead arched an eyebrow. "Don't you guys cover ALL of our games against Central?"

"Of course!" she grinned. "They are only our BIGGEST rivals. Physical proof of us wiping the floor with them just makes the victory sweeter."

Jughead vaguely remembered an injury Moose had received during a particularly rough basketball game against Central over the winter months and couldn't help but feel a little amused by Midge's blatant dislike of the visiting team.

He shared the setiment.

Midge's eyes turned towards their team. "Oh! It looks like they are done with their warm ups." She tipped her head at him. "I'm going to get a few interviews from them pre-game. Wanna come with?"

He managed to shrug nonchalantly despite his eagerness to see Betty again. "Why not? There's nothing else to do till the racing starts."

If any of his eagerness to get down to the track showed, Midge didn't acknowledge it as the two of them made their way around the fencing. The brunette chattered alongside him, and he made his required grunts of acknowledgements, but his half-lidded eyes remained on Betty.

Her back arched and stretched as she reached forward to touch the toes of her sneakers. The muscles of her thighs and hamstrings flexed and contracted as she warmed them up for the upcoming run. Blond hair trailed from the low ponytail to brush over her sun-kissed shoulders, arms, and skimmed her shorts. Her arms and hands remained outstretched as she brought herself up into a sitting position, limbs reaching up to the sky before scissoring out with each rotation of her torso.

Jughead was never one to notice breasts, or legs, or curves on girls, but today, he found himself appreciating the caress of each fold of Betty's shirt as it shifted over her stomach and chest. The only way this would be more enjoyable was if she was in his kitchen again, pressed against him.

As if sensing his uncharacteristically testosterone-fueled thoughts, Betty's head turned in their direction and immediately flashed them a smile. And, once again, Jughead's heart skipped for something that was decidedly not home-made Oreo Cheesecake.

"Good morning, Betty!" Midge chimed beside him as the blond in question pushed herself up and made her way towards them with a hop in her step.

Betty beamed as she reached the chain link fence, "You guys are early!" She leaned over to accept the hug her slightly taller friend offered her.

Midge pulled back from the hug and waved the microphone in her hand with a slight twist of her wrist. "Just here to get a recording of the good ole' Riverdale Morale before the competition starts. Mind offering a few words when Dilton manages to get over here?"

"Sure. I don't mind taking my turn after the rest of the team." She grinned. "Their speeches might be a bit more colorful then mine."

"Perfect!" Midge laughed. "Let me scootch over there and let them prepare." And, with one last quick hug, she made her way further down the fence to the rest of the team.

Jughead watched as Betty shook her head with obvious affection before turning her eyes on him. It only took her a single step to bring her to the fencing right before him, a slight blush high on her cheeks, and her fingers hooked within the chain-link fencing. Seeing her obviously trying to restrain herself from . . . well, something . . . Jughead found himself suddenly nervous, excited, confused, and irritated all at the same time.

The irritation was aimed mostly at himself. One would think that someone with his particular IQ would think as far as how they would act around each other after an evening of making out in his kitchen. Can't exactly go back to how they were before.

Pocketing his left hand, he rubbed the back of his neck with his right. "Good morning, Sunshine."

Luckily, the nickname was enough to bring a genuine smile to Betty's face as she brought her hands to the top of the fence. "Good morning, Juggie. I'm glad you're here."

"Well, I wasn't going to miss the main event after weeks of watching you during practice in the sweltering heat. Gotta see the fruits of my labors."

"What labor would that be?" Betty smirked. "The bleachers too hot for you to sit on?"

"Nah. Watching you run just makes me tired."

"Jughead." She chuckled before reaching out and tapping a fist into his shoulder.

It was their first touch after last night, and Jughead was glad that she had made the first move over the fencing. Just that single, playful touch was enough to make him realize how much he missed her. He quickly pulled his hand out of his pocket and grasped her wrist before she could pull away.

Her blue eyes lit with surprise before warming as their fingers slowly laced together.

Holding hand was easy. Very doable.

Her eyes dropped momentarily before refocusing on him. "I wasn't exactly sure how you wanted to take this."

"Take this?"

Betty blew a strand of hair out of her eyes. "Our 'little-more-than-a-friendship' relationship."

"Ah. That."

Then came the exasperation. "Juggie."

"I think you might like saying my name, Bets."

Her eyebrow arched, but their hands stayed laced. "I'm sure you are aware of a little something called 'context.'"

He smirked. "Right." Taking a deep breath, he looked down at their laced hands, noting how much smaller they were in comparison to his. He paused at the sight of the bandage over a portion of her palms before looking up. "Beating up Central goonies already?"

"Ha ha." Betty rolled her eyes before pulling her hand away, smoothing her fingers over the injury. "It's no big deal. Just a scrape. Nice attempt at changing the topic, by the way."

Jughead sighed. "Right. Relationship."

A low chuckle brought his attention up to her face, as she ran her fingers through her hair. "Um. How about you just wish me luck, give me a hug, and we'll talk about it later?" She smiled. "You know, after the competition. It will give me something to look forward to."

Or dread. It really depended on the mindset.

Jughead didn't do relationships unless it was with food. There was a lot emotional baggage involved, and just by watching what his friends went through on a daily basis, he never saw the point in risking anything just for the relief of teenaged hormones. Archie came to him singing his woes. Even Betty did the same.

He wondered why Betty seemed so insistent of starting a relationship with him when it was obvious that the one she harbored with Archie for so long caused her so much heartache.

He nodded at her, a smile on his lips. "Sounds like a plan to me."

The relief on Betty's face brought up mixed feelings, but he held them down before reaching out and pulling Betty in for a hug over the fencing. Feeling her arms wrap around him just made everything feel right again. All questions flew out of his head, as he breathed in her scent of cinnamon and suntan lotion. His arms tightened around her and despite being in public and the risk of being seen by half of Riverdale, he turned his head and pressed a kiss to her temple. The way she melted against him just made Jughead want to kiss her more.

"Good luck, Sunshine."

He could feel her smile on his shoulder. "Thank you, Juggie."

Betty pulled back and ran her hands down his shoulders, arms, and to his hands before giving them a small squeeze and stepping back.

Despite the haze of attraction inebriating his brain cells, Jughead caught the slight limp in her right ankle. "You all right?"

Instantly, Betty's smile turned sheepish as she scratched the back of her head. "A slight accident running last night. No big deal."

Jughead frowned. "No big deal? Bets, you're limping."

She sighed with clear exasperation, like he was the insane one, and not her. "I sprained my ankle last night running. I put ice on it all night and there is a heat patch on it now, so I'm fine." She pushed down her sock to show the patch before standing back up. "Like I said, no big deal."

In an instant, Jughead's brain assaulted him with possible bad scenarios as a result of running with an injured ankle. Would something break? Would forcing the ankle result in permanent damage?

What if she fell in the middle of the run and got trampled by the rest of the teams?

As if she were a psychic (like most women seemed to be), Betty walked back up to him and grasped his hands. "Jughead. Jughead stop thinking."

"Thinking? I'm not thinking."

"Then stop worrying."

"Worrying? Me? About you?" His skepticism must have shown.

And, Betty obviously didn't like what she saw. "Look, Jughead. I need you to just take a step back and trust me on this. You were always behind me on my decisions, why are you going to change now?"

"Things are different now, Betty."

"No they aren't." She shook her head. "Our friendship is the foundation of what we are in now, and you trusted me back then to make the right decisions. And, even if I didn't make the right one, you were there for me. And, I appreciated that." She took his hand again. "I didn't have that with Archie. We weren't friends before we started or on-again-off-again relationship. I'm ashamed to say that I let Archie do everything for me . . . and I followed him blindly every time. I regret that now."

Jughead blinked, his brain processing her words as she ran her fingers through her hair again out of frustration.

Betty sighed, the fight going out of her body. "You and I. I really think that because of what we have been through for the past few years, we might actually make this work. I can make my decisions and you can make yours and we can be there for each other without driving each other nuts. I need you to do that now."

Jughead still needed to figure that out. His brain worked on overtime as he tried to wrap his mind around Betty being something other than just a friend. He didn't kiss friends. Hell, he didn't kiss anyone and just the other night, he was engaging in some serious kissing with the blond standing before him. And, relationships were such a freaking pain. But, he wanted to try. God help him, he wanted to try to be something for Betty. Something better than Archie was.

"That really isn't going to work." Jughead replied.

"What?" The mixture of hurt and surprise darkened her eyes, and he tightened his grip on her hand before she could pull away.

"Two people who make their own decisions without consulting each other aren't really in much of a relationship." He pulled on her hands until she was forced to be close enough for him to hug again. His eyes connected with hers as he continued. "I know I haven't made my intentions clear yet. This is new to me, and you are just getting out of your thing with Archie. But, I plan on fixing this as soon as you finish properly burying."

Her eyes swam and the skin around her cheeks pinked, signaling Betty's move from anger and sadness to surprise and happiness. Just as she should always be.

His forehead touched hers. "Good luck, Sunshine. Be careful."

Betty's lips opened as if she was going to say something, but at the last second, she seemed to change her mind and smiled. "Thank you."

 

* * *

 

In the heat and in the crowd, Jughead kept his butt glued to his seat as the people around him engaged in needless screams and rabble-rousing. Archie and Veronica couldn't seem to keep their hands off each other as they joined in with the rest of their class mates in screaming insults at Central into the air while cheering for Riverdale.

Betty had already participated in a few of the relay, and while it looked like Central and Riverdale were neck to neck in terms of speed, Central hosted larger players. This meant more bumping and shoving than strictly necessary, but they were smart to stay on the safe-side of illegal and managed to remain in most of the competitions.

Already feeling like the over-protective boyfriend, Jughead kept an eye glue to Betty on and off the track. So far, it looked like her ankle wasn't causing her much pain, and the limp wasn't even noticeable unless one was really looking for it. But, it seemed that as the morning started to bleed into the afternoon, Betty was completely on par with the competition, her smile constantly on her face and the fire never leaving her eyes.

Cheryl was perched on the bleacher seat in front of him, so he was hard-pressed to miss her loud groan as she dropped her "Go Betty Cooper" sign to the space by her feet and wiped at her face with a linen handkerchief. "God, why is it so hot? Let's get to the final race!"

Veronica, who was enjoying the day with her designer glasses and hand fan (which Archie volunteered to hold) glared at the red-head. "If you are too weak to handle another hour of providing my Betty the moral support she needs to beat this competition, then I recommend you drive off in that tacky convertible of yours."

Jughead hid his groan behind his fourth can of soda.

"TACKY? I'll tell you what's tacky Miss Lodge, that ridiculous leopard-print top clashes embarrassingly with those purple monstrosities you call shorts. What, did your blind dog dress you today?"

Veronica threw her glasses to the side in clear indignation (his poor buddy had to practically dive over the whole fourth row to catch them) as she leapt to her feet. "How dare you insult my Vera Wang top?"

Archie placed a placating hand on his girlfriend's shoulder. "Eh, ladies? We are here for Betty. Now, isn't exactly the ti-"

"Stay out of this Archie!" Veronica demanded. "I will not have my fashion sense or Betty's day be sullied by this –this- WITCH!"

Jughead came to the conclusion that the rich and the heat didn't mix, and decided to grab his cooler. "Let's leave them to it, Arch. It may actually be safer to stay on the ground for this last bit."

"Uh . . . yeah." Archie agreed before following him down to the fencing. They weaved through the sitting crowds, and the few blankets for those who were perched on the grass until they were closer to the track and safely away from the bleachers.

Jughead's ears thanked him for the relocation as he dropped his cooler and nested on the warm grass. "There we go."

"Man. You would think that those two would get along for just one day." Archie grumbled as he dropped down beside him.

Jughead shrugged. "They got through the last few hours without a fight. That's got to count for something I guess."

"I guess." The red head sighed. "Oh! Look, the final race is about to start!"

Both males turned their full attention to the track as Betty and her teammates met with the team from Central at the start of the race track. The 400 meter race was the final race of every track competition in the region, and always hosted the best of the best of the best on each team. Betty had participated in the race the year before but had only managed to place third after two of the Central participants. Despite Riverdale coming out with the most accumulated points, Jughead remembered Betty's disappointment at losing. The last few months clearly showed her desire to place first this time. He recalled their conversation before today's competition and couldn't help but smile.

After all, aside from her amazing cooking skills, didn't he admire her for her strength and single-minded desire to succeed?

From this distance, Jughead could see the sweat layering her skin and the droop of her ponytail. Slick strands of blond hair adhered themselves to her forehead and neck, but despite the overall look of exhaustion, Betty looked completely primed to take the gold in this race. At the starting line, she began a few quick stretches, her gaze rising to the bleachers before slowly scanning the crowd.

Jughead immediately felt a low heat in his chest as he realized that she was looking for him, before her eyes found him. She smiled and he returned the gesture.

Good luck, Sunshine.

She broke the gaze and looked down at her ankle, adjusting the sock and the heat-pad under it before climbing back to her feet to loosen her muscles.

As the coach raised the gun to the air to signal the beginning of the race, Jughead climbed to his feet and moved to the fence.

In an instant, the shot was made and Betty's body unfurled, rocketing her forward. Jughead had seen her run a hundred times, but today, right now, she was more than just a seasoned runner.

She was graceful. Each muscle moving flawlessly and smoothly to propel her up and out towards the finish line.

"Look! Look!" Archie cheered from beside him. "She's pulling out! Betty is ahead!"

Betty wasn't giving Central a chance to use their size against her. Instead, she had shot herself forward and ahead of the entire line of runners, determined to lead them all to the finish line. Her hair swung violently behind her, and in the back of his mind, Jughead wondered just how much her ankle felt as she pounded the surface of the track with her tennis shoes in her push for first. By the 300 meter mark, the winner was no longer a question, and a roar of cheers rose from the spectators as Betty threw her arms out into the air and crossed the finish line with the most beautiful look of absolute satisfaction on her face as she stumbled to a stop and fell to her knees, side, then back.

"Betty!"

Jughead's heart stopped as she fell to the ground, but before he could launch himself over the fence and to her, her arms came up and waved at the crowd. Her torso slowly following suit until she was sitting up and flashing her teeth at all who cheered for her.

Then she looked at him again, and his heart started back up. Her lips moved, and he couldn't hear her, but he could see her yell his name before her team swarmed around her and lifted her up for their victory cheer.

Jughead!

"Jug! What are you doing?" Archie's question followed him as Jughead leapt over the fence and jogged to the group of celebrating track members.

He wondered how Archie would react if he had told him that he was simply answering to his lady's call.

Then, Betty was in his arms and he didn't think about Archie any more.

* * *

 

Word count:3,411


	20. Green

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's always someone fallin' head-over-heels for someone  
> Who is head-over-heels too.  
> The daily horoscope says it will last forever  
> A flash of matching tattoos.

A cooling tin of freshly-baked cheesecake placed between them, Gladys Jones and Alice Cooper chattered around their mugs of coffee. The Saturday mid-day sun warmed the dining table surface between them as they giggled their way through the last few days, and how (obvious) their respective children have been. And, as conversation between housewives usually go, they meander through shyly-initiated todays to highly fantastical tomorrows.

Future dates?

Maybe a few Cooper-Jones's barbeques over the summer?

Joint applications to the same colleges?

Marriage?

And really, grandchildren are just a matter of time!

Jellybean learned the satisfactory power of the eye roll at a young age, and allowed herself to do so before sneaking a bite of her mom's slice of cheesecake and scampering off. She doesn't bother offering a share to the cheerleader teddy bear clutched in her arm, knowing that dairy products cause most stuffed animals indigestion. And, Jellybean is anything but a careless mother.

Nibbling on a piece of graham cracker crust, the young girl makes her way to her room, and the window that overlooks the back yard. With great care, she placed her furry friend on her pillow and peeked through the window, happiness and curiosity chasing her desert down.

  
* * *

  
But is this all there really is to the love connection

It's just a fleeting feeling

But love is still the feel to fight for a resurrection

It's sounding more appealing

  
* * *

  
Veronica tosses her smart phone on her dresser before dropping herself onto the silk duvet covering her bed. Talks with Archie usually put her in a great mood, but her mind continuously wanders to the day before.

She can clearly see, projected on her immaculate white ceiling, the image of Betty, shining under the merciless sun as she limps into the open arms of one of the most in-eligible bachelors in the entire school.

She didn't even know that someone who so loudly proclaimed his dislike for woman kind could look so happy with an arm full of a sweaty, exhausted blond.

Veronica wonders how she missed such a huge change in her best friend.

For a moment, she allows herself to feel a little bit of shame.

  
* * *

  
We could never be happy in captivity

The whole thing was just sad be-sentimentality

  
* * *

  
Archie finishes an entire pizza and the left over carton of cookie dough ice cream before he realizes that he is in mourning.

Was this how a break-up was supposed to feel like?

He knows how it feels to be blown off for another guy: after all Veronica wasn't known for being an exclusive dater. Not that it ever bothered him before.

But, he always had Betty before.

And, while it looks like Veronica has her affections focused on him for the present and immediate future, he can't help but feel (betrayed) by how easily Betty ran to Jughead.

How (damn) easily Jughead was able hug her back then sweep her off her feet like he was some kind of Romeo. Did Jughead even know how to (be) a Romeo?

Archie snorted. Well, see if he'll be receiving any pointer from this red-head!

Best friend, his ass.

And, just like that. Guilt and shame turned the pizza and ice cream into a brick in his stomach. And, the container of left-over rotisserie chicken looks as unappealing as day-old oatmeal.

The sounds of his parents moving around the kitchen continued in the background as he dropped to the couch, his eyes not really able to focus on the news report playing on the screen.

God.

When did life decided be so (freaking) unfair? He loved Veronica. He loved Betty. Jughead was the best friend he could ever ask for.

It wasn't like he was losing any of them, but it still felt like he was losing half of his quartet.

He knew it was selfish.

He was selfish enough to let it bother him.

And, he felt enough shame, to wish he didn't feel like this.

He contemplated calling Veronica up again just to get his mind off of his stupid feelings.

  
* * *

But anyone is entitled to the question that I just withdrew

Because this is the story of how we learn to love

* * *

  
Not completely ignorant to the three pairs of eyes sneaking peeks at them through the windows of the Jones's house, Betty and Jughead reclined comfortably in the spring hammock. Gravity forced the two to be relatively close, but neither one could really bring themselves to care. Torsos side by side, thighs comfortably pressed together. Her legs crossed over his to ensure that her wrapped ankle doesn't suffer any accidental pain.

The hammock was positioned under the cool shade offered by the nearby trees, and the breeze surrounding them was uncommonly cool and refreshing under the green-tinted sunlight.

It was the epitome of a lazy Saturday. Something Jughead often indulged in alone, and Betty felt she earned for the time being.

His leg hung over the side, lazily pushing them from side to side as he nibbled on an ice-cream sandwich. His other arm was being used as Betty's pillow, and allowed the freedom of letting him finger the ends of her hair. Betty contented herself with pursuing a fantasy novel, the ear bud in her left ear providing enough background noise to keep her mind languid.

"What band is this?" Jughead asked, the other ear bud in his right ear.

Betty lifted her free arm so that they could look at the display of the mp3 player. "I'm not sure. It's this band Cheryl told me about. She sent me a few of their songs, promising me that I would love them."

Jughead snorted. "Hm. Well, it's not horrible."

Betty's laughter reverberated through the both of them as she turned her head to drop a kiss under Jughead's chin. "That's high praise coming from you. Especially for someone you aren't very fond of."

"You'll have to tell me on another day what you and Dilton see in her."

"Another day?"

"No sense in ruining this one."

He stuck his ice cream sandwich in her mouth as she moved to defend her friend, leaving her no choice but to grudgingly take a bite as he pulled it away and finished it off with a smirk. Her glare had no affect on him as he used his knuckle to wipe away the excess ice cream from the corner of her lip.

"Jerk."

He didn't bother responding, instead, opting to lean back and close his eyes. He ignored the sporadic peeks his sister made through her bedroom window, and the hysterical giggles flowing out of the kitchen window.

Let them have their fun.

He can have his.

* * *

And, then you soon begin to read or repeat conclusions

Always on happy endings

You start to see the guarantee of allure as illusion

And, love is worth defending

* * *

 

Word Count [1,046]

Chapter 11-20 Song List

11\. "Mother Earth" by Within Temptation

12\. "Strange and Beautiful" by Aqualung

13\. "Lost" by Michael Buble

14\. "Fire" by Augustana

15\. "3 A.M." by Matchbox 20

16\. "Dirty Business" by The Dresden Dolls

17\. "Who'd Have Known" by Lily Allen

18\. "Shampain" by Mariana and the Diamonds

19\. "All For You" by Sister Hazel

20\. "Love Again" by the Dirt Poor Robins


	21. Head

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And you didn't mean to do it  
> So I don't have to believe it  
> If we didn't really mean it  
> Magical thinking gets us by

As it turns out, dating Jughead isn't really all that different from being friends with Jughead.

There isn't enough hand-holding to be significant. No make-out sessions in shadowed corners. No romantic feedings of green Jell-o during lunch hour.

Just like before, the day doesn't start off right without Jughead meeting her at the street corner (and if her mother starts the bad habit of watching her daughter meet with the "newly-realized boy of her dreams" through the thin gaps between the sheer curtains, then she's more than willing to ignore it.)

They never hold hands.

But, they bump arms more often than not as they walk side-by-side, and friends throw them meaningful glances in passing. Betty knows for a fact that Midge and Nancy like to giggle amongst themselves about how cute and mismatched they look (and this is something else that Betty is pretty good at ignoring . . . even if she does secretly agree).

There isn't any more practicing at the school track, but this doesn't take away any shared time between them. While Jughead isn't outwardly affectionate, it's obvious to Betty that he keeps an extra eye on her on their way back home, thanks to her wrapped ankle. Most week nights, he'll deviate from the norm and stay at her house to do homework or watch t.v. Her or her mom always whip him up an after-school snack before they make themselves comfortable in her room.

He always makes himself comfortable on the floor: back against her bed, while she sits at her desk: chair angled towards him. Sometimes, they'll chat about one subject or another while they finish assignments, and sometimes, they don't speak a word. After he leaves, Betty lays in bed and marvels at their comfortable silences. As far as she could recall, her moments with Archie were always filled with talk or loud background noise. Even when they were kissing, there was always something making noise somewhere.

Betty fears that she is getting used to Jughead too quickly.

She wonders if he is getting used to her just as quickly.

(Sometimes, during the darker morning hours, she wonders if he is getting tired of her. After all, he was known for his anti-female tendencies before they became a tentative item. This may explain why Veronica has been throwing her less-than-discreet looks of disapproval lately.)

So, Betty makes a point to enjoy every late-night phone call. Every touch. Every shy good-bye kiss on the corner of his lips.

Everything carefully logged in her journal, and locked in her bedside drawer.

The bedside drawer that Jughead was currently propped next to as he meticulously worked on a plate of her mother's enchilada's. His third helping if she was keeping count correctly.

It was Friday night, and the two of them were taking a break from homework and other school obligations by eating dinner in her room with the small t.v. set on a sitcom rerun.

Betty had stopped at one serving, and sat indian-style on her bed, her attention on Jughead's head, and wondering how he would react if she were to just randomly start running her fingers through his hair.

Wasn't that her right as his girlfriend?

She refrained from sighing as she crossed her arms and leaned against her headboard. For some reason, she didn't think that being Jughead's girlfriend was quite the same as being anyone else's boyfriend.

Jughead climbed to his feet, effectively regaining Betty's attention as he turned to look at her. "I'm going down to see if there are any leftovers for me to take care of. Need anything?"

Betty mustered up a smile. "Nope! I'm good."

He smiled. "Be right back."

Betty cheered herself up a bit by watching her boyfriend's jean-clad butt as he walked out. Once he was out of sight, she promptly slid herself down onto her bed until she could sufficiently roll over and burry her face into her pillow.

She wondered where all of her courage went. Just a week ago, she was completely pro-active about claiming all of Jughead's kisses and hugs. Now, she spent her moments overthinking everything: her head filled with negative scenarios for any possible overly-romantic actions on her part. And even though Jughead never turned away from her kisses or hugs or touches, she still feared, and the self-imposed turmoil was driving her to insanity.

Rolling to her side, she gazed at her bedside table and thought about her journal, locked within, and the happy moments it held for her.

And, she smiled a little.

"I know you said you didn't want anything," Jughead walked back into the room and into her view as he placed two glasses on her bedside table. "But, your mom just whipped up some sweet tea, so I figured we could indulge a bit."

Tucking her hands under her chin, Betty smiled up at him, touched by his thoughtfulness. "Thanks, Juggie."

"Tired?"

Propping herself up on her elbow, Betty reached out and took a sip of her tea before laying back down. "Not really. Just getting comfortable."

"Ah."

Surprising Betty, Jughead dropped himself to the corner of her bed, taking a healthy drink of his tea before placing his glass next to hers. Instead of refocusing on the t.v., his torso angled towards her, his right arm thrown out to prop him up, and effectively caging her in the space between him and his arm. The intimacy wasn't lost on Betty, and she almost lost her breath in the wait to see just how far her unpredictable boyfriend was going to take this.

"No left-overs?" She breathed, trying to maintain some composure.

"Nah. Your dad beat me to it." His attention went to the loose ribbon on her cardigan as it fluttered under the ceiling fan. His free hand reached out and trapped the ribbon between his fingers, idly sliding the pad of his finger over the silk. "I think your dad fights me for dinner left-overs as a sort of alpha-male thing." His voice dropped a few octaves, in a humorous rendition of her father's. "Cooper house, my domain. Back off my spoils."

Overcome by giggles, Betty's laughter shook the bed beneath them, bringing Jughead's hip into contact with her stomach. Neither moved as she calmed down, her smile remaining and Jughead looking down at her with what could easily be interpreted as affection.

For a moment, Betty wondered what she was so worried about.

"Dad doesn't sound like that."

Jughead smirked. "You don't hear him like I do. After all, I am compromising his daughter's time."

Betty was caught off guard by Jughead's sudden flirtatious display, and she wondered if the novelty of Jughead being romantic would ever wear off. (She secretly hoped that she never got used to it.)

She figured that she owed it to him to play along. "Oh, yes. Compromising my time with yummy food and comic-reruns."

He arched an eyebrow. "Well, I do recall a few Tetris battles in my room."

"Which I have been winning." She interjected with a smile.

"By a small margin," he conceded with a smile before continuing. "Plus, there's the after-homework heavy petting. Late-night calls. And, random instances when I give you piggy-back rides if your ankle is giving you problems. Which I'm pretty sure you fake by the way."

Betty felt like her smile was going to split her face into two. "I'm just exercising my 'girlfriend rights.'"

"That so?" He slowly leaned down until their noses were barely three inches apart. His torso connected firmly with hers, and she reveled in the heat and solidity he generated (her mind momentarily veered off to a distant yesterday when she had snuggled against him in sleep, before returning to the decidedly interesting present.) "I guess I can accept that. I wouldn't deal with such manipulative moves from just any girl."

Betty's heart beat at a double time thanks to his proximity, and her hand itched to reach up and bring him closer.

Just a little closer.

"Jughead?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you going to kiss me?"

"I don't know. Do you want me to?"

Oh, yes. "Yes, please."

He smirked. "Betty Cooper? Reduced to begging?"

She growled. "I"ll show you begging, you jerk."

And, without any prompting, her hands flew up and threaded through his hair (finally), knocked the beanie off his head and brought him the last three inches.

His lips immediately opened against hers and she nearly moaned at the taste of Mexican spices, sweet tea, lemon, and pure Jughead. Her head took all of the sensations of him in, recording it all for future perusal.

Jughead's free hand released her ribbon and slid up between her breasts, along her neck, and gently cupped the back of her head. He slanted his mouth against hers, deepening the kiss as her fingertips increased the pressure along his spine and along his shoulders.

Betty didn't know when her eyes had fluttered shut, but she cracked them open as his lips slowly traveled down her jawline. In a momentary flash of clarity, her gaze refocused on the door to find it blessedly closed.

Her boyfriend was a freaking genius.

"You are ruining Mexican food for me," he breathed against her neck before returning to her lips. "It tastes so much better this way."

Archie's kisses never made her burn like this. That was her last rational thought before her arms wrapped around his neck and his wrapped around her back to pull her up to him.

His hands never slipped underneath her cardigan or tank top and she didn't tempt fate by ripping his t-shirt off. Instead, they made due with the exposed skin they could reach.

Jughead's fingertips traced the back of her neck and the sensitive skin behind her ears. Betty caressed his cheekbones, eyebrows, and the slight stubble on his chin.

When breathing became necessary, they broke apart and panted against each other. Foreheads touching, Betty's hands slid down his chest where she barely found purchase in his t-shirt. Jughead's hands made a slow caress down her arms before returning to the loose ribbon that had his attention before.

"Juggie?"

"Yeah, Sunshine?"

"I really like kissing you."

Pride flickered on his face as the corner of his lips (which were slightly swollen, thank you very much) tilted up. "Well, you have single-handedly changed my perception on kissing."

Laughing, she slid her hands back up his chest to lace her fingers behind his neck. "As long as you aren't kissing any other girls than me, I'll consider it all in a day's work."

His dark eyes opened, and the heat behind his gaze was enough to weaken her knees. "Oh, trust me, Betty. I can't see myself kissing anyone else, let alone my own mother in the near future."

Oh.

His fingers continued to play at the ribbon as he skimmed his lips along her jaw and up to her ear.

"M-my ribbon?"

His breath raised goose bumps along her neck. "It's the color of your eyes. I can't seem to keep my hands off it."

Oh.

Cupping his face, she brought his lips back to hers, their smiles touching before their kisses deepened.

(And later, when Betty was alone in bed and writing it all in her journal, she noticed that the ribbon was missing from her cardigan.

It brought a smile to her face.)

* * *

 

[Word Count: 1,896]


	22. Hollow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You call me a mountain  
> And I call you the sea  
> I'll stand tall and certain,  
> And watch you swallow me.

Despite popular belief, Jughead had experienced "love at first sight."

He this particular mistake was made during the awkward transition between middle school and high school.

She was tall, like him. Not beautiful, but not ugly either. She had a bright smile and a love for sweets that he felt complimented his own.

Then, she opened her mouth, to announce that she would be his future wife . . . and Jughead had quickly regained his senses.

To this day, he never admitted to anyone that he had considered a relationship with Ethel Mudd for 23.6 seconds.

Sitting alone in a booth with three orders of fries, a triple cheese burger, an order of nachos, and a banana milkshake, Jughead felt a bone-deep exhaustion as this particular memory made itself known. His brain kept his body on auto-pilot, continuously shoveling food into his mouth, where it was pulverized into something small enough for him to swallow.

All of it, his favorite foods and he couldn't even muster up enough energy to enjoy it.

This was a problem.

Half his burger gone, Jughead placed it on his plate and worked on his second order of fries. Pop's was as crowded as always for a Friday night, and on a night like this, he was usually on the prowl for a friend or a good acquaintance to mooch off of after his pre-dinner meal. However, memories of Ethel seemed to jumble with his more recent memories of Betty: his brain picking out similarities and differences without his permission.

The nerve of it.

He made a mental note to look up any scientific evidence of kissing disrupting brain function before taking a powerful slurp of banana shake.

The resulting brain freeze deterred him for all 0.153 of a second before he resumed eating his burger.

It was only until Jughead felt the very new feeling of an impending stomach ache that he stopped and realized that he was distressed.

Distressed to all hell.

Which had to be against some kind of universal code.

He was Jughead Freaking Jones! King of all cool-cats! The most chilled out dude in the gang!

He sat back in his booth and gave some serious thought to a handful of Tums. And his feelings for Ethel. And how they were nothing like his feelings for Betty.

Despite not knowing what the hell he was doing, Jughead was proud of the fact that he was doing relatively well in his brand-spanking-new role as Betty Cooper's Boyfriend. He would even go as far as admit that he liked it (but only at point of death. Because Jughead Jones does not admit to having romantic inclinations). Kissing her was the kind of fun he thought was only reserved for surprise morning buffets. Making her happy, made him happy. Irritating her made him happy. Being in the same room as her parents wasn't emotionally draining. Her touch gave him the good kind of goose bumps. She cooked and he ate. He cooked and she ate.

The thought of seeing her every day for the foreseeable future was actually nice.

And, like all relatively sly, clever, and hellish things, his brain was picking at every little thing to determine just how he was going to screw this up.

Propping his elbows on the table, Jughead dropped his chin in an open palm and dipped one of his fries into his milkshake. His eyes scanned the teens around him before stopping near the jukebox. There, a few couples stood around, keeping to themselves as they whispered, smiled, and one couple in particular, danced in a tight, rocking circle.

Ethel had wanted that with him, and while she was a decent enough friend to have (when she wasn't trying to gain romantic favors through food), it really wasn't something he was interested in between them.

And with that thought, he wondered whyhe was compelled to be Betty's boyfriend and not Ethel's.

They were both happy-go-lucky girls. They liked sports. They both cooked well. They hung out in the same social circles. He was friends with both of them . . .

But, where things didn't feel right with Ethel, they worked with Betty. Hell, he could imagine Betty claiming to be his future wife and it was much preferable to Ethel's constant claims for the same (though it still gave him a rash to think about marriage of all things).

Now, he was going insane.

Jughead wondered if it was possible to think yourself hollow.

The banana milkshake was a cold brick in his stomach.

Betty, Ethel, and even Archie . . . everything was so different with them now. He wondered if everything would be normal again. Preferably sooner . . . and before he's forced to keep a bottle of Tums in his back pocket.

How freaking lame would that be?

His cellphone vibrated in his pocket, and Jughead nearly sighed in relief for the distraction. Being a genius was so annoying sometimes . . .

He flipped the phone open without looking at the caller ID. "Hello."

"I'm calling to invoke my girlfriend rights."

The smile on his face was completely involuntary. "Good evening to you too, Sunshine."

"Oh, right. Hey, Juggie!" Betty's voice jingled, before dropping to her usual timbre. "Now, about my rights."

"We discussing favors?"

"No interrupting! This is important."

Jughead didn't give himself time to consider how quickly just hearing Betty's voice eased the knotting in his stomach: Tums a distant memory. "I am all ears."

She cleared her throat. "I need you to recall our little wager. Clue: Bowling."

Jughead relaxed back into his seat, no longer focused on the people around him, but the female on the other side of the line. "Ah, yes. Your night of shameful cheating. Pointless cheating, if I remember correctly."

"Psh. A technicality. I want to talk about our wager."

"The one you lost."

"Another, meaningless technicality. Stop interrupting!"

Laughter was a near thing that time.

"You wanted a meal, and I delivered. Flawlessly, if I might add." Betty continued, with no little pride coloring her voice. "And, I wanted an escort. To the dance."

Jughead's head may have been a bit overheated from his mindless wandering just a few moments earlier, but he could easily connect the thoughts. "The dance."

Her voice lost a bit of its confidence, but she trekked onward. "Well, things are a bit different now. We are more than friends, and though I did kind of lose our bet-"

"Kind of?"

"I still want to go with you." She barreled on without acknowledging his interruption. "Except . . . you know as your girlfriend."

"Ah."

"It's just, you know, a thought. Um, if you don't mind me hanging off your arm all night. And, I don't even care if you wear a suit or not, but we can just be there. Together."

"Betty?"

". . . yes, Jughead?"

"Will you go to the dance with me?"

There was a pause before Jughead heard the distant squeal, signifying Betty's attempt to hug the phone to her chest as she celebrated in her typical girly manner. It gave him a moment to enjoy her elation, and decide that overthinking things didn't have a place in a relationship that was working so far, but seemed weird all the same.

This dance would be their moment. Their time to show the rest of the school that they were an item. That he made Betty happy. That Betty made him happy. That their friends could be happy for them.

"Yes, Juggie! I'd love to go to the dance with you!"

And, that seemed to be that.

* * *

 

[Word Count: 1,275]


	23. Honor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lying on a fake beach  
> She'll never get a tan  
> Baby I'm gonna leave you drowning  
> Until you reach for my hand

There are times to be "Betty," and times to be "Girly-Betty." Usually, she dons the "Betty" cloak: after all, it's much more comfortable to simply be her laid-back and confident self as opposed to . . . someone like Veronica or Cheryl. Tennis shoes can be affordable and stylish. Jeans and shorts work with most social situations. Make-up is just used for the occasional blemish (after all, how comfortable is it really to have your skin weighed down by layers of blush and foundation?).

Tonight was not a "Betty" night.

It was time for the big guns.

It was a "Girly-Betty" night.

Betty imagined that if her night had a subscript, it would be "Mission: Knock Jughead's Socks Off."

It was ten days since Jughead "officially" asked her to the school's Fall dance. Ten days of floating on Cloud 9. Ten days of glaring at the calendar to move faster. Ten days of window shopping. Ten days of smaller meals, and an influx of hot pads on her ankle to speed up recovery.

And, that wasn't to mention school, family, and Jughead time.

Before she knew it, it was Friday and in less than 3 hours, the dance was going to begin. Releasing a happy sigh, Betty sat back on her bed and admired the dress hanging on her closet door.

Unlike her usual trek to a nice boutique for a bomb-shell dress, Betty had found herself without the urge to outshine Veronica. After all, she didn't have to challenge anyone else for Jughead's affections, and it felt like a good idea to wear a dress for herself. While Veronica's hand-me downs and expensive boutique dresses were nice, Betty decided that she wanted something different.

After all, nothing else was the same. Why should her dress be?

The knee-length, peach-mango chiffon dress was a catch from a local thrift store. Strapless, it was a very plain, gauzy dress: the fabric floating with each movement and super soft at her touch. At first glance, Betty had considered it a rather boring dress. But, the plainness became potential, and for a price of $23, it had A LOT of potential.

After only a few days of hand-sewing in small rhinestones along the top of the dress, and adding a dark pink ribbon under the bust, finding the right shoes, and picking out her accessories, Betty felt like the dress was one of her best decisions ever.

And, when she walked into that gymnasium, wrapped in the soft, floaty dress with Jughead at her side, there was no doubt in her mind that people would realize just how happy she was. How perfect this was, and how happy they should be for them.

Blowing a strand of blond hair from her forehead, Betty leaned back on her hands and sighed.

Veronica. Her best friend.

Her biggest conundrum.

The majority of their recent phone calls and visits were colored with Ronnie's blatant disapproval of her new relationship with Jughead. And, at first, Betty was able to easily dismiss her friend's eye-rolling and haughty huffs as typical Veronica stubbornness. After all, anything Veronica couldn't control or approve of, was apparently going to be an issue.

And, this thing with Jughead obviously blind-sighted her.

Then, during a trip to the local record store, Betty realized that Veronica's disapproval was born from actual concern.

"Just tell me, Betty. Are you two really serious?"

"What are you talking about?"

"What am I talking about? You! You and Jughead! This joke of a relationship you two are in!"

"Veronica. I know you are kind of confused by what's going on, but this isn't a joke! Jughead and I are in an actual relationship."

The irritation that swirled around Veronica was almost malleable as she raked her fingers through her hair. "God, Betty. If this is about Archie, I'll back down for a little while . . . or –"

"It really has a lot more to do with Jughead than Archie, hon."

"Oh, really? So this has nothing to do with Archie not showing up to your practice runs?"

Betty had been focusing on a rack of CDs as they conversed, but the sudden seriousness in Veronica's voice was enough to refocus all of her attention on her friend. "You and I both know that Archie will NEVER chose me if it's a contest with you, or sports, or even his stupid car. And, yes, I have spent years letting Archie put me at the bottom of his list, and yes, not coming to see me run even though he promised to, may have been the last straw, but in reality, everything Archie did is just proving to me that I can't pine after him anymore. I was stubborn when it comes to Archie. He makes me stupid, and it has been a long lesson, but now, I can see that Archie can't be the boyfriend I want him to be."

"And, Jughead Jones can?"

"Yes!"

"Betty. This is JUGHEAD we are talking about. You know him? The same nerdy, geeky, gluttonous, and sexist man-child who hangs out with us?"

"Juggie's not sexist!"

"That's beside the point, Betty!" Veronica threw her arms up in exasperation. "Jughead doesn't bother with women!"

"He bothers with me," Betty huffed.

"And, you aren't even a little weirded out by that?"

"Er . . . because it's Juggie?"

"No! Well . . . yes," Veronica stumbled, "But, because you two are friends! Don't you think you may be confusing things between friendship and romance?"

"No, Veronica. I really am not." Betty shrugged. "Believe it or not, Jughead and I have actually talked about this beforehand. This wasn't exactly an over-night event." She tried to offer a comforting smile. "Besides, the friendship Jughead and I have is actually a starting point for this working between us."

The fire seemed to die from under Veronica as she crossed her arms and propped a hip on the nearby CD rack. With a sigh, she reached out and cupped her hand over Betty's shoulder. "I don't know. I'm just-I'm just worried about you."

"Ronnie?" Reaching out, Betty grasped one of her friend's hands, touched by the concern her best friend was uncharacteristically showing. "What's really bothering you?"

"Betty, I know I don't act like it sometimes, but you are my best friend," her grip tightened on Betty's. "I just don't want you to make a mistake . . . and get hurt."

Betty averted her eyes. "And, Archie didn't?"

"Archie is normal," Veronica retorted, fixing Betty with a stern look. "And, I will have you know that I gave Archie all hell when he did something to really cause you pain. You may be hesitant to get physical with a jackass, but I have no such reserves."

She smiled, "And, Archie is?"

"Well, sometimes," Veronica managed a half-hearted smile in return. "The jury is out on this new boy-toy of yours."

Betty was determined to gain Veronica's blessing on the topic of Jughead. He was going to be a bigger part of her life . . . and Ronnie was right. They are best friends.

Taking in a deep breath, Betty cleared her mind and chest before mustering up the most confident smile she could. Tonight was going to be amazing.

Amazing.

Two and a half hours and one last swipe of lip gloss later, Betty straightened in the bathroom and looked at herself in the mirror. Her parents had gracefully sacrificed their bathroom, and its three-paned mirror for the occasion. The dress fit perfectly.

A rainbow of peaches and pinks clinging modestly to her chest before cascading down and ending right above her knees, the gown was better than she remembered. She fingered the hand sewn details, and allowed herself a little bit of worry in anticipating Jughead's reaction. To date, she had never indulged in something so feminine in his presence (or at least with the purpose to be attractive TO Jughead), and this little change was daunting at best. Her hair was simply left down, brushed into soft waves and pinned to a side part: exposing the left side of her neck. A thin, white gold chain adorned her neck and matched the metallic, strappy heels on her feet.

It wasn't frilly, show-stopping, or prom-worthy. But, it made her feel pretty.

And, tonight, Betty wanted pretty.

And, maybe just a little bit of appreciation in Jughead's eyes. That would be the icing on her cake.

A soft knocking on the bathroom door, pulled her attention away from her reflection. "You ready to go, honey?" Her mother called through the wood. "Forsythe just got here."

Another deep, calming breath, and a nervous swipe over the front of the dress. "I think I'm as ready as I'm going to be."

Betty pushed the door open to find her mother standing by the door. Instantly, her mother's smile bloomed into one of awe and happiness as she took in her outfit. The blush that heated under her skin was completely involuntary, but the small smile wasn't, as Betty managed a small twirl. "What do you think?"

"Oh, sweetheart. Betty, you look beautiful!" she reached out to brush her fingers over the skirt. "Is this really the same dress you brought home?"

"Yup!" Betty held up her hands and wiggled her fingers, flashing the Band-Aid on her thumb. "All with my own two mitts!"

Alice Cooper laughed before pulling Betty in for a tight hug, marveling at the strength and glow that radiated under her daughter's skin. "I'm so proud of you, sweetheart," her voice dropped to a mischievous whisper. "Forsythe is going to be blown away."

"Is he in a suit?"

"Not really," she chuckled. "Your father poked some fun at him, but he does cut quite a figure in his dress pants and red button down. In fact," Alice pulled away and wiggled her eyebrows. "You two match."

"Red, peach, and mango?"

"All on the same side of the color spectrum, dear," she laughed and guided her daughter out the door. "Now, let's get down stairs to separate our respective men."

Smiling, Betty followed her mother's guidance. "You like him."

"Of course I like him," she stated. "He knows what he has."

Betty nearly stumbled mid-step and looked over her shoulder. "Mama?"

"Oh, don't get me wrong. Archie is sweet when he wants to be, but he's no good for you, and I'm glad you finally have that straight. Besides, Archie and your father are always butting heads while Jughead usually gains some civility."

"You and Dad . . ." Betty sighed.

"You know we only want what's best for you."

"I know, I know."

As the two of them descended down the steps, Betty felt her heart rate elevate at the sound of Jughead's voice. It sounded like he and her father were in a deep discussion about the latest basketball game, and if the red on her father's neck was any indication, they were not seeing eye to eye. As they got closer to the living room, she could see Jughead's back, as he faced her father, who was taking a defensive position behind his Lazy-Boy chair. For a bunch of nothing, the discussion was rather heated: her dad pointing out the pros of his team while Jughead easily challenged every point with an argument of his own.

"I swear," she heard her mother mumble behind her. "That man will never grow up."

Betty's laughter brought the two males' attention to them as they reached the floor.

Seeing Jughead's face brighten at the sight of her nearly stole her breath away. And, boy! Did he really pull out the big guns!

Despite not wearing a suit, her boyfriend looked sinfully formal in his straight-ironed slacks, spit-shined shoes, and red dress shirt. The top two buttons of the shirt were loose, exposing peeking glimpses of the white undershirt he wore beneath.

Which shouldn't be as sexy as it was.

Shiny shoes and hair that wasn't brushed, but still looked suave under the glare of her living room lights. Did Archie ever look this good?

"Betty," Jughead smiled, offering a small bow of his head.

"Good evening, Juggie." Betty hid her blush with a quick brush of her fingers over her cheek. "You look amazing."

His eyes ran up and down her length, "You, too."

Betty had to remind herself that her parents were watching them. Very closely.

"All right, you two," Alice clapped. "I want pictures! Hal, run in the kitchen and grab the camera." Her deceptively small hands wrapped around Jughead's wrist and Betty's back to guide them to the decorative ficus near the window. "You two stand there while I turn on the lamp."

Betty didn't have time to feel embarrassed by her parent's antics before she was side tracked by the solid feel of Jughead's hand on the small of her back. Her body immediately leaned into his touch, which was even more embarrassing. Thus, the flaw in her plan.

Get Jughead to take her to the dance? Check.

Get a drop dead dress that even Jughead could appreciate? Judging from his looks, check.

Spend three hours dancing, touching, laughing, talking, and being within arm's reach of Jughead while in public? Oh God, she was screwed.

The hair on the back of her neck stood at attention, when Jughead leaned close, his lips barely brushing her ear. "I didn't want to say this with your parents around, but you look perfect tonight."

"T-thanks," she stammered, looking over her shoulder at him. "Would you believe that I found it at the thrift store?"

He cocked an eyebrow. "Don't girls usually spend ridiculous amounts of money on dresses?"

"Well, yes. But, I wanted something special." She ran her hand down the front of her skirts. "It was pretty plain when I first spotted it, but after a few alterations, I think it looks pretty snazzy." Grinning, she cupped her elbow. "And, I think it's very important for you to know, that girls always worry about another girl showing up at a dance with the same dress as her. At least this way, I'm pretty sure I'm safe in the originality department."

"Hm. Thrift store, eh?" he shrugged. "Could have fooled me."

A Juggie-esque compliment if she ever heard one.

By the time her parents had assembled, Betty and Jughead were comfortably angled towards the camera: his front to her back, fingers laced away from her parents' view. She marveled at how tall he was against her even with her high heels. Archie and her were always nearly matched in height and whenever she wore heels, she towered over him . . . which didn't bother her as much as it did Archie. She couldn't imagine Jughead being bothered by something as trivial as height, though it seemed it wouldn't be a problem in their case.

At her mother's mark, she mustered up her brightest smile for the camera.

Alice was completely in her element as she fretted from angle to angle, taking as many shots as she could of the couple in the living room. Hal grumbled from his chair about it being only a dance and not prom, so he didn't know what the big deal was. He was mostly ignored.

"Now, Forsythe. You just let your mother know that I'll be sending her duplicates of the pictures." she smiled. "I'm sure she'll appreciate them!"

Jughead nodded, pulling his mother's car keys from his pocket. "I'll be sure to let her know, Mrs. Cooper."

"You two go have fun!" Alice exuberantly ushered them to the front door.

"And, get her home at a decent time," Hal added to their backs.

"Oh, and drive safe!"

Jughead took their demands in stride, letting Betty out the front door first after she wrapped a thick shawl around her shoulders. "Sure thing. You two have a nice night, Mr. and Mrs. Cooper."

After the door closed behind them, Jughead sighed with relief, making Betty laugh. "How was that codling for you?"

"Man," he groaned, opening the passenger side of his mother's car. "I mean, this isn't the first time I've taken you to a dance. I don't remember your parents ever being so involved before the other ones."

Betty wrinkled her nose before smoothing down his collar. "Better get used to it, Hun. You've gone from friend status to boyfriend status. Out of the pan and into the fire, as they say!"

Before she could slide into the passenger seat, Jughead wrapped an arm around her waist and dropped a kiss to the exposed side of her neck, bringing them intimately closer than they could risk being in the house. Betty's breath stilled in her chest, as he brushed his lips up to the underside of her chin.

"J-Juggie?"

"Just showing my appreciation for the dress, Sunshine."

Oh Lord.

* * *

 

The car ride to the dance was filled with Betty's chatter. Her nerves were running rampant, and the only way for her to deal with it was to talk about everything and nothing. Jughead didn't seem bothered by it: nodding at the right times and content with letting Betty talk his ear off. By the time they reached the Riverdale High Gymnasium, the parking lot was nearly brimming with cars, leaving them no choice but to park near the track field.

Betty spent all of two seconds regretting her footwear before they exited the car and Jughead offered his elbow.

Then, she was all for walking.

She beamed under the fading sunlight and threaded her arm through his. "You ready for this?"

"The dance?"

"About us being officially official," she asked.

"Hm," he tightened his arm around her and shortened his stride to make up for her heels. "I thought we were already official. I didn't realize that there was more than one hoop for us to please the masses."

"Not that the masses are really that important," Betty grinned. "But, this is our first dance . . . and really, our first official date."

"Huh," Jughead seemed to contemplate her statement. "Does this mean a change in protocol?"

"Protocol?" A cool breeze skimmed around Betty's knees and she leaned closer to Jughead.

"Yeah. Do I have to extend the amount of time I hang around you before I take post at the snack table?"

He laughed as she whacked him in the stomach. "Smart ass."

"Don't worry. I promise at least one slow dance. But, if you manage to wrangle more than two out of me, I may have to sit out due to indigestion. I read a study somewhere that eating and dancing don't mix."

"I'll keep that in mind," Betty dropped a kiss on this cheek as they reached the double doors leading into the gym.

A wall of noise and music slammed into them as they moved from the cool night air, into the stuffy atmosphere of the school dance. Betty immediately spotted their friends and was pulled into a frenzy of hugs, smiles, and gushing comments about her dress. Nancy, Midge, the track team, and the cheerleading team were just a few of the people she found herself chatting with in just the first thirty minutes, the music surrounding the DJ loosening her muscles and tongue. She felt her early nervousness melt away, and thrived under the experience of enjoying the night with her friends and peers.

Jughead's hand brushed along her back, bringing her attention away from the latest gossip. "I'll be scouting out the food while you mingle. I think I see the guys there, so come get me when you're ready to dance."

It wasn't exactly boyfriend protocol, and Betty was about to tell him so, when he brushed a light kiss on her forehead before walking off.

Damn. It was too early for Jughead to know how to diffuse her!

Midge wrapped an arm around Betty's shoulders, the disco ball casting glitter over her lavender formal. "Wow, Betty! You and Jughead! Can you believe that despite how odd it feels to see you two together, it still seems right?"

Betty cocked an eyebrow. "Oh, good. I thought it was just me."

"Seriously, girl!" Nancy grinned. "It was awkward enough to see you two together after you broke it off with Archie. I was holding my breath for you to just pin Jughead to the wall and mark him as yours!"

Blushing, Betty covered her cheeks. "Hey! I wasn't that obvious!"

"Honey, you were exuding pheromones like a factory," Nancy pointed out, the satin of her dress sliding over her curves with every movement. "Every guy BUT Jughead was noticing you."

"Except, Archie," Midge chimed. "He was pretty out of the loop."

"Archie is always out of the loop," Betty pointed out, she redirected her focus on Nancy. "Was I really that obvious?"

Nancy's eyes softened as she took Betty's hand. "Sweetheart, you are the smartest chick I know, but when it comes to your feelings, you are as transparent as water. Hell, even Chuck caught the energy between you two, and he barely has room to spare in his sports-addled brain!"

The girls laughed as they stood in their small circle, throwing around topics about their respective men as they moved slightly to the music. Betty loved talking to her friends, but she found herself skimming the crowds for Ronnie's face. She was able to spot Jughead at the punch table, his hand holding a small plate piled with cookies and granola squares as he stood with Moose, Reggie, and Dilton. Smiling at the sight of him, she continued her search and thought she caught a glimpse of flawless raven hair on the other side of the dance floor.

"I think I see, Ronnie over there," Betty turned to her friends. "I'm going to catch up with her really quick."

Both girls quickly bid her good-bye and grinned over promises to take pictures of her and Jughead slow dancing, before Betty began to weave her way through the crowd.

Even considering herself a relatively tall girl by normal standards, Betty felt almost lost as she slid past bodies decked out in voluptuous dress and stuffy suits. It felt like every person in Riverdale was present for the dance, and while Betty liked to think of herself as a girl with a pretty good social circle, it was slightly unnerving to see so many unfamiliar faces. But, like a trooper, she smiled at everyone, waving at the few she knew in passing and letting the bass beating from the speakers match her tempo.

She began to wonder if maybe she had overshot Veronica's location until she finally spotted the young socialite, surrounded by a ring of adoring fans. Mostly male fans and jealous females, but still . . . it satisfied Ronnie's obvious needs for attention.

Betty smiled. Somethings never need to change, and with her out of the running for Archie's affections, Betty felt more reliant on Veronica's constant need to reaffirm her high status among the commoners. Just to make sure she hadn't fallen into some kind of Twilight-universe.

And, Veronica was indeed making a statement tonight. Her dress was a stunning ensemble of black silk, wrapping around her from neck to toes. Her shoulders and arms were completely bare, save for the silver coil wrapped around her left bicep. The train lay behind her diamond-studded strapy heals.

Princess-wear if she ever saw one.

Veronica spotted her as soon as she broke through the crowd. "Betty!"

"Ronnie!" The two of them fell into a hug before Betty pulled back, her hands on Veronica's elbows. "You look gorgeous!"

"Thank you," Ronnie gushed, brushing her perfectly manicured fingers through her hair. "It's designed by Helmut Lang, a designer from Austria. He's absolutely amazing and assures me that this is a once-of-a-kind design."

Betty wiggled her eyebrows. "Archie must have thought he had died and gone to heaven."

"Don't you know it," Ronnie smugly affirmed before looking down at Betty's dress, eyes brightening in interest. "And, how about that? This dress is cute! Where did you get it?"

"Well, I am proud to say that this dress is also one-of-a-kind." She managed a small spin to give her friend the full-view. "Found the dress at the thrift store and added my own little fixin's."

"Well, well. Aren't we the thrifty one?" Veronica grinned. "And, you can't even tell that it's not from a boutique."

Betty knew Veronica well enough to know that the rather back-handed compliment was a genuine compliment. And, there was really no better fashion praise to be had. "Thanks!"

"Hey, Betty."

"Archie-kins!" Veronica bounced as Archie came up to them, a plastic cup of punch in each hand. She gracefully took one of the pro-offered and laced and arm around Archie's. "Thank you so much for the punch! Garnering all of this attention is wearing out my delicate vocal cords."

Betty mentally cheered at her lack of anger or irritation at seeing the two of them together. "You both look great."

"Of course we look great!" Veronica smiled, adjusting Archie's tie. "I picked his suit out for him."

The red-head seemed content with letting Veronica do what she wanted while he offered his untouched cup of punch to Betty. "You look great, Bets."

"Thanks," she offered him a small smile and shook her head at the drink.

"A~nd your date?" Veronica asked, "Where has he gone?"

"Do you really have to ask?" the blond rolled her eyes. "Juggie's getting his fill at the refreshment table."

The socialite rolled her eyes as she tightened her arm around Archie's. "Oh right. Once a glutton, always a glutton it seems. Even the dating life hasn't change that, has it?"

"Veronica . . ." she sighed.

"OH, there's Jessica!" Veronica interrupted, her gaze zeroing in on someone in the crowd. "Her and her Jimmy Choo knock-offs! Give me a second while I make her eat her shoes at the sight of these heels."

And, just like that, Betty stood alone with Archie. For a moment, she allowed the awkwardness to wash over her, and she missed the carefree atmosphere the two of them used to share. Back when they were ping-pong dating.

Back when he used to break her heart.

She crossed her arms over her midsection to give her hands something to do before Archie seemed to snap out of his thoughts. "So, you're here with Jughead, huh?"

"Yup," she smiled. "We've been together for a little over a week now."

"Wow." his eyes seemed riveted to the cluster of jewels at the top of her dress. "You and Jug. That seems . . . well, it seems weird."

Betty laughed, offering him a small shrug. "It was weird at first. But, now it feels right."

If Archie's smile seemed a little broken, Betty tried not to let it get to her, opting to ignore it just in case her heart decided to betray her. Again. "Yeah, I guess I have to get used to it."

And suddenly, it was very easy to ignore the crowd, music, and energy around them, as Betty tightened her arms around her. "Look, Archie. You and I have been really close. I know that things are bound to be a little awkward with us now officially not being together, but I really miss you as a friend."

A blush colored Archie's face as he ran his hand through the hair on the back of his head. "Y-yeah. I miss you, too. And, we are still friends." He offered a tentative grin. " I guess I just have to get over the fact that you and I used to be together . . . and now Jughead's got you."

Betty frowned. "You have to understand, Archie. No one has anyone right now. It's too early for that. Jughead and I are together and where we are right now works for us. And, you and I were never together." She averted her eyes. "You know that."

His eyes snapped to her face before he laid his empty hand lightly over her crossed arms. "But, we had some-"

"What's up, Arch?"

Betty and Archie snapped out of their little world to find Jughead standing at Betty's side, one hand with a full plate and another with a cup of punch.

Archie immediately pulled his hand away from Betty's arm like she had intentionally burned him before managing a nervously forced chuckle. "Hey, buddy. Just catching up with Bets here."

"Hm." Jughead moved his hand with the punch to Betty's midsection, forcing her to take the cup in her own hands. "You looked like you needed a drink."

For a moment, Betty wished for vodka. And, she didn't even know what vodka tasted like. She thanked him (for what, she didn't really know) and took a sip of the punch. He then placed a peanut butter cookie in her hand.

"Now that I think about it, I haven't seen much of you either, Jug," Archie added, obviously ignoring the odd "couple-ness" of the couple in front of him.

"Outside of school you mean?"

Archie finally managed a real smile. "You know what I mean, you goof."

Jughead shrugged. "I just saw Reggie and the guys at the refreshment table. Apparently, we are having an air hockey tournament this weekend."

"That's right. At Pop's. You think you're up for a little competition?"

While the boys conversed between themselves, Betty gave herself some time to refocus her self. Jughead was a solid presence beside her, and she absorbed his warmth as she finished off her cookie and punch. Jughead seemed perfectly at ease in his conversation with Archie and for just a moment, Betty was jealous of his ability to take drastic changes in stride.

And the changes between the three of them was nothing if not drastic.

The music around them changed noticeably, and Betty found an opening to get her Jughead time and to get some space between her and Archie. She nudged Jughead with her shoulder. "Hey, sweetie. This is our dance!"

"You two have a dance?" Archie squeaked in surprise.

Jughead shrugged, "The lady calls."

They found a round table with two spare seats and dropped off their belongings before Betty slid her hand into Jughead's and pulled him towards the dance floor. The music had finally transitioned into a slow dance song, by the time Betty pulled them to a stop and turned to hook her arms under Jughead's, cupping his shoulder blades and laying her head in the crook of his neck.

His body had stiffened in surprise at her sudden invasion of his personal space, but it didn't take him longer than a second to quickly adjust, resting his hands on her hips and leaning his head on top of hers. "You'll have to enlighten me, Sunshine. Are we hugging or dancing?"

She sighed and allowed herself to sag against him a little. "Maybe a little bit of both."

"Should we be moving then?"

She smiled into his shirt as they began to slowly rock in a lazy circle. Eyes closed, she felt Jughead surround her: the smell of his deodorant mixed with cheap butter cookies, the soft caress of a freshly ironed shirt, the wiry muscle underneath it all.

His stomach grumbled between them and Betty pulled her head away with a laugh. "You just ate!"

Jughead frowned at her, but didn't remove his hands. "Those cookies were just snacks. And, bad snacks at that."

She grinned. "What do you say we leave the dance in an hour and spend the rest of our date at the smoothie bar?"

The offer had obviously caught Jughead off guard, and he stopped their dance. "You want to ditch the dance? I thought you were looking forward to this."

Her grin morphed into a smile. "I thought so to. But, I figured something out."

"Care to share this epiphany of yours?"

Leaning up on her toes, Betty dropped a kiss under his chin and pulled away with a smile. He looked torn between embarrassed, irritated, and happy, and she figured that the public setting didn't work well with him.

But, she didn't mind. His hands never moved.

"All I was really looking forward to was spending a Friday night out with you. If we are here or somewhere else, it doesn't really matter." She dropped her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "And, I don't know about you, but it's getting a little bit crowded in here."

Jughead wasn't considered a genius for nothing, and he offered her a smile and an inquiring cock of his eyebrow. "You sure, Betty? I mean, I know I complain about dances on principle, but we don't have to leave and ruin your night because of me."

She smiled. "Everything is perfect."

And, it was.

If there were a chorus of buzzed whispers or sighs that followed them out of the gymnasium just a little while later . . . then that was okay too.

* * *

 

[Word Count: 5,504]


	24. Hope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> People talkin' and I'm watching  
> as flashes of their faces go black and white  
> and fade to yellow in a box in an attic  
> But I never thought so much could change.

Jughead was on Cloud Nine.

With a bacon cheese burger, chili fries, and a chocolate milk shake in his belly; a table spread at Pops with three meat-lovers pizzas and two orders of nachos; and four of his best friends having a fun guys-night-out with some competitive air hockey.

It probably helped that he was still in such a great mood from last nights early school-dance-ditch with Betty.

Who knew that making out in the corner booth of a deserted smoothie bar could be so fun?

Jughead was finally figuring out what this whole "dating" thing was about.

And, Betty hadn't even blinked an eye when he said that tonight was going to be a guys-night-out. She had just told him to have fun.

Weren't girls supposed to be possessive of their boyfriends' time?

Then again, Betty wasn't just a girl.

She was Betty.

Betty. Betty. Betty.

Just her name made him smile.

"Get that stupid grin off your face, beanstalk." Reggie sneered at him. "I am about to slaughter you."

Jughead held his air hockey mallet in one hand and slurped on a coke with the other. "Said the cricket to the master."

Another reason why he was in such a good mood: their monthly air hockey tournaments always had the same competitors. And, after years of watching Dilton, Moose, Reggie, and Archie play the exact same moves and try the exact same dirty tricks with each other, it was getting ridiculously easy for Jughead to simply adjust his strategy and win accordingly.

So far, he was undefeated at their last five games, and it didn't look like his friends were any wiser. Except maybe, Dilton, who was smart enough to figure out how Jughead was winning, but lacking in any physical finesse to carry out the same strategy himself.

Which just continued to play right into Jughead's favor.

He grinned as he took another sip of his drink, casually watching Reggie pull of a few exaggerated stretching exercises in an attempt to loosen his muscles and showcase his manliness to the table of women in the corner booth.

Jughead didn't imagine that he would be able to do more than warm up with this round. His only real competitor was Archie, who was essentially clumsy, but still managed to have an average grasp of speed and agility when it came to hitting the ball.

He looked forward to meeting his best friend head-to-head in the final match.

"Let's do this!" Moose cheered, his muscles straining against the fabric of his Riverdale T-shirt as he threw his arms up with a double-fist pump. "I have been practicing, and I am definitely gonna win this time!"

Reggie rolled his eyes before pushing his hair back. "Hold your balls, Neanderthal. I have been honing my skills for the purpose of creaming every one of you!"

"Can you sound any more gay?" Archie laughed around his slice of pizza.

Reggie snorted as he dropped the hockey puck on the table and prepared to start the match. "Do try to be a little less transparent, Arch. Just because we can't bounce any more gay jokes off of Mr. Needlenose here doesn't mean that we have to target the best looking guy here."

Jughead arched his eyebrow. When had he ever been accused of being gay?

Dilton chuckled from beside him, a plate full of nachos in his hand. "Welcome to your ascension from Singleville."

"They did this to you, too?"

"When Cheryl and I became official. Though, I have to admit, that their treatment of you is much more tame."

The puck flew towards Jughead's side and he quickly countered without breaking the conversation. "Betty and I have been friends since we were kids. People are used to seeing us together. You and Cheryl . . ." He aimed a pointed look at his significantly shorter friend. "That is an enigma."

Dilton grinned good-naturedly. "We do seem a bit odd on the surface. Cheryl and I have no illusions on that. But, the fact that she doesn't care about appearances in this instance . . . well, that's testament enough for me. You know?"

Jughead hit the puck into a perfect sixty-degree angle and internally rejoiced at the sound of the puck landing solidly in the goal and Reggie's accompanied groan of barely contained irritation. "But, it's Cheryl. Not to be a bad friend or anything, but even I wonder how you manage to stand being with her more than strictly necessary."

Dilton's chuckle was far from offended. "So she tells me. About, you. You know that she just likes pushing your buttons because you are one of the only men on the planet who isn't mesmerized by her charm."

"Is that what you are calling it?"

"Hey!"

"Sorry," Jughead mumbled, before shooting another score.

"Shit, Jug!" Reggie growled. "Stop using the damn sides as a bouncing board! This isn't a freaking math class!"

"I don't see why I should change my tactics when they are clearly working in my favor."

Moose stood close to the edge of the table, his face set in serious concentration as he tried to figure out just how Jughead was managing to use the sides to his advantage. Jughead doubted he would grasp the concept.

"It's cheating!" Reggie barked.

"Not really."

And, Reggie continued to grumble and turn a darker shade of red as the match finally came to it's inevitable conclusion with Jughead in the lead. Jughead wasn't one for unsportsmanlike conduct, so he knew better than to prance around the air hockey table with a victory slice of pizza. But, that didn't really stop him from enjoying how his obviously superior gaming skills trumped the playboy's own.

The next match was between Moose and Archie, and Reggie consoled himself by quickly taking Moose's side and trying to give him pointers.

"But, Reggie! You just lost to Jughead. Why should I take your advice?"

Archie howled with laughter as Reggie turned an even darker shade of red and stomped off to claim that he needed to take a call.

"You know, I think he's a little raw about being the only single guy in our group tonight." Dilton noted as he took a seat at the table across from Jughead.

Jughead had taken a paper plate and was on the process of piling as much food as he could on it before he looked up at Dilton's comment. "I didn't realize that being single was a hindrance to Reggie's quest for as many booty-calls as he can get."

The genius shrugged. "Maybe he's just a little jealous that one of them hasn't stuck around."

"Hm," Jughead shrugged back. "Sounds like that's his problem." He took a large bite of a pizza slice and sat back. "What I'm curious about is Cheryl?"

"What about her?"

"Why her?"

"Well . . . why Betty?"

Jughead cocked an eyebrow. "Really? You want to compare Betty to Cheryl? Where do I even start?"

Dilton grinned. "Well, it might be a waste of time to ask you of all people to determine which good qualities shine the most in either girls. We are pretty biased."

"Biased has nothing to do with it."

"Come on, Jughead. Cheryl likes pushing your buttons. We have already established this. And, the fact that you are now dating Betty, whom Cheryl likes to consider as one of her best friends, you are an even bigger target." She tipped his cup in sympathy in Jughead's direction. "It's what women do when they are protective of each other."

Jughead blinked as he took a mouthful of nachos. "Hm. I guess, I never thought of their relationship in that way . . . they do seem to get along a lot better than say, Veronica and Cheryl."

"Exactly."

"But, what about you?"

A light seemed to shine from Dilton's eyes as he sat back to think about his girlfriend. It was pretty obvious that the young genius thought very highly of the redhead heiress, as did most of the male population in truth. But, Jughead had always figured Dilton to be one who would find an intellectual connection with a girl.

And, if Cheryl was an intellectual then he was a vegan.

"Did you know that Cheryl plays Craft Wars Omega?"

Jughead's mind blanked for a moment. Craft Wars Omega was a popular online RPG that was played by most of the people in Dilton's nerd circle. Jughead had dallied a bit in the game, and while it was a great way to spend a boring Sunday afternoon, he had never really fallen into the craze. It probably didn't help that the only one who was interested in his particular social group was Dilton. And, how was anyone supposed to create a guild on that game with only one friend? His eyebrow continued it's daily exercise as it rose in disbelief. "Cheryl?"

Dilton laughed. "I know! I had met her on there by accident. The two of us were in the same guild and didn't even realize who the other was until we accidentally bumped into each other when the OtherWorlds Expansion Pack came out." His eyes unfocused as he smiled. "She had over heard me talking to some of the other guys about my character. She caught me as I was walking to my car and revealed that she was in my guild . . . we just kind of clicked. It was crazy."

"I guess that's one word for it."

"We went for coffee-she bought-and we figured out that we had a lot of similarities. Did you know that she is kind of a computer geek?"

As far as Jughead was concerned "Cheryl" and "geek" had no business in the same sentence together unless it was "Cheryl ran the geek over with her Rolls-Royce on the way to the shoe store." He shook his head and wisely kept his mouth stuffed with pizza.

It made breathing a bit hard, but he had a lot of practice in the art of "stuffing face."

"Yeah. When we aren't online or I'm helping her with homework, she's always bouncing all of these ideas off me about creating smart phone and online applications. I mean, sure she tends to focus on shopping a lot, but I am the same way with my inventions." He adjusted his glasses and looked up thoughtfully. "You know, a lot of the applications she likes to talk about utilize some pretty complex mathematical algorithms. So, in a way, when we discuss them, we are applying both of our interests."

Jughead tried not to look too surprised. "So . . . you two are real?"

Dilton smiled. "We are real."

And, suddenly, it wasn't too hard to imagine Cheryl making goo-goo eyes at Dilton as he explained some impossibly complicated piece of technology as they hung out in his cluttered garage; or Dilton taking notes as Cheryl gibbered about shoes and skirts and dresses and what variables are most important in picking the best outfit; or the two of them on opposites sides of town in the dead of night with their computers and headsets and a vast, digital world between them.

It helped him be a little less annoyed at Cheryl.

After all, anyone who could see the good things in Dilton had to be an essentially decent person. Even if that person happened to be extremely vain and as profligate as Veronica. Jughead toyed with the thought of asking Dilton what he saw in Cheryl, but knew that any answer he received would be covered in bias . . . which he couldn't really blame him for. If anyone asked him what he saw in Betty, he would think that her positive traits would be glowingly obvious.

Jughead made a mental note to keep a closer eye on Cheryl (after all, she was pretty close with both Dilton and Betty, and they weren't exactly bad judge of character . . . maybe just a little naive).

The familiar thud of air-hockey-puck-meeting-face pulled the two of them out of their conversation as Archie clutched at his nose with a howl: Moose standing sheepishly on the opposite of the table and Reggie falling into a boneless heap of laughter against the guilty wall of muscle.

Jughead remembered that Dilton and Moose were best friends and turned back to the genius. "How do Moose and Cheryl work out?"

Dilton shrugged. "They don't hang out often. In all honesty, when Cheryl and I hang out, it's just the two of us. It's not like we pull any double dates with her friends or with Moose and Midge. It's not that we think that it's awkward, it just hasn't worked out that way."

"Hm," Jughead nodded. "I guess that could have some advantages . . ."

"With you and Betty, I'm sure it would seem that way."

"It doesn't seem to bother Betty personally. You know how she is: she's great at socializing. But, it would be nice for the two of us just easing into this new relationship together without having to think about how other people will think or react."

Dilton spared a glance at Archie who was in the process of stuffing napkins into his nose. "How as Archie been taking it?"

Jughead shrugged. "I honestly can't tell if he is taking is exceptionally well, or if he is taking it hard. Usually, it's pretty easy to read him. The guy is an open book. It's why it's so easy to be friends with him."

"But, change in the friendship dynamics has changed," Dilton stated. "For as long as I can remember, it has always been Betty, Veronica, and Archie."

"You don't have to remind me of that." Jughead grumbled. "I feel like I have single-handedly shifted the paradigm of reality as we know it."

Dilton laughed, his glasses slipping down his nose. "This is hardly that significant to reality as we know it. And, just in case you have forgotten, Betty seems to be all for this new relationship with you." His smile warmed. "And, even I have to admit that I haven't seen her this happy in a long time. Or, you for that matter."

Jughead frowned, mid-nacho-bite. "What are you talking about? I'm still the same as always."

Now, it was Dilton's turn to look skeptical.

Jughead rolled his eyes. "Well, I may be a little different."

"You aren't fooling me, Jughead Jones. You and Betty are good for each other."

Who was he to argue with a genius?

Archie walked up to them, a plastic bag with ice on his face. "You and Reggie up next, Dilton" He groaned as he plopped down on the booth seat beside Jughead.

Dilton adjusted his glasses with a grin before climbing to his feet. "When are you going to learn that when playing any sports game with Moose, you need to wear a helmet?"

"Maybe I'll learn after the next five times I get a puck in the face. I'll always be grateful of this rock head!"

Jughead shook his head, used to Archie's stubbornness. "Nice try, buddy."

The red-head grinned. "You would think that after all those years of football and baseball, I'd be able to take a hit a little better."

"I don't think people get used to being bowled over by a train."

"I hear ya."

Jughead slid a plate of pizza over to him. "I'm surprised you can hear me at all."

Archie laughed. "I can hear just fine! I just can't feel my face."

"It will be interesting explaining that to Veronica."

"Aw, man. And, we have a date tomorrow!" He removed the ice. "You think it may be gone over night?"

"I think you will have better luck wishing that Veronica contracts temporary blindness."

"I was afraid of that."

Jughead polished off the rest of the nachos and watched the air-hockey game near them. Dilton was holding his own against Reggie while Moose stood as an imposingly protective figure next to the shorter genius. Reggie was on a rampage, hoping to regain some dignity after his first loss. Dilton, who was an initially weak competitor in their group when they first started their little competitions, was utilizing his own healthy dose of aggression.

"Last night was pretty fun, huh?"

Archie's question brought Jughead back as he pushed his empty plate way, scooping a glob of cheese with his finger. "Last night?"

"The dance."

Jughead shrugged. "It was a dance. We've been to tons of them."

Archie blinked. "Yeeahhh, but this was your dance with an actual date."

"I've taken Betty to a lot of dances since we were kids. It really wasn't something out of the ordinary." Jughead didn't mean to sound obtuse, but it didn't make the statement any less true.

"Well, I guess." Archie shifted in his seat, obviously itching to dig further into the Betty-Jughead relationship. "I just figured that you two got bored since you left so early."

"Nah. Like I said, it was just another dance. We ditched for smoothies."

Jughead tried not to feel too offended by the sight of his best friend sagging in obvious relief at the thought that their date had turned out rather dull and friendly. And, for a moment, a darker side of Jughead wanted to brag about just how amazing the date and their past "dates" had been. How amazing Betty's smiles are. How her body fits perfectly against his when they hug. How addicting her kisses can be without the addition of fake lip gloss and lipstick.

The smaller, and admittedly weaker, part of Jughead just wanted Archie to stay in the dark a little bit longer. He could deal with a friend who was painfully obtuse about what was really going on. It was a whole lot preferable to dealing with a friend who was running around town in a minor jealous rage . . . and "minor" was probably sugar coating it.

Jughead finished of his soda, wondering how long this would last before it all blew up in his face.

* * *

 

[Word Count: 3,018]


	25. Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You show the lights that stop me turn to stone.  
> You shine it when I'm alone.  
> And, so I'll tell myself that I'll be strong  
> And, dreaming when they're gone.

Betty was disappointed.

Which she always knew would happen in any relationship: even if that relationship was between her and one of the most laid back men she knew.

Which happened to be the source of her current disappointment.

For the last few days, her and Jughead could only manage to see each other at school. Family obligations and other responsibilities limited any other contact to phone conversations or IMs. It wasn't that big of a problem, but she missed him.

And, and today, she was free to see a movie with her boyfriend . . . who apparently deemed it more important to catch up on his sleep than hang out with her.

What the hell.

It was a rather dull start to her afternoon, but it quickly picked up when Nancy called to invite her on a shopping trip for lamps.

"Now, that my cousin has finally moved out, I get to move into the bigger guest room and make it my own!" Nancy smiled, as the two of them mingled among the crowd at the Riverdale Outlet Shoppes. Enjoying a rare girl's-afternoon-out, the two of them had purchased a large order of frozen yogurt and sat at an outdoor veranda with the sun warming their skin.

Betty scooped a spoonful from their shared order, and savored the lemon flavor as it melted on her tongue. "How much bigger is the guest room from your old room?"

"By almost half. I've moved most of my stuff over, but there is still a bit of empty space. Which wouldn't bother me as much as it usually does, but there seems to be A LOT of it."

"I think a few floor lamps would be a great idea," Betty agreed. "I've always liked the ambiance of a room lit only by lamps."

"Me, too." Nancy grinned, tossing a casual wave at a passing group of teens before refocusing on her blond friend. "So, how are things in paradise?"

"Eh, you know. Good times and bad times. It just feels like Juggie has been spending more time with the boys and his family than me," she sighed. "Which sounds very selfish, I know, but I've been missing him."

"Ah, the honeymoon phase is over, I see."

Betty chuckled. "I don't know. Jughead and I have had very few disagreements and fights . . . which is bizarre, since I seemed to be angry with Archie half the time I was dating him."

"And, this scares you?"

"I don't know . . ." Betty sighed. "I guess I'm just waiting for the moment when Jughead wakes up and realizes that he is in over his head, and I wake up still in love with Archie."

Nancy rolled her eyes, more than used to Betty's random falls into self-pity. "Pu~lease, Betty. Get a grip on yourself. Jughead is a lot more rational, not to mention male, than you give him credit for. And, if you even toy with the idea of going back to Archie, I may have to beat you senseless myself."

She laughed. "You know what they say: habits are hard to break."

"Well, do you have feelings for Archie at all?"

Betty frowned. "Well, of course! I mean, we aren't dating, but we're still friends. I admit that things are a bit strained at the moment, but I would think that after spending our entire lives together, we'll get over that."

"Would you hug him?"

"Sure."

"Would you hang out with him?"

"Sure."

"Would you go out on a double date with him?"

Betty tried to imagine a double date with her, Jughead, Veronica, and Archie. She nearly shuddered out of her seat. "Probably not."

"Would you kiss him?"

"No."

The answer was so simple and came out without a thought. For a moment, it surprised her. Only a few weeks ago, her immediate answer would have been, "Just tell me where and when to be!" But now, the thought of kissing Archie tied her stomach in knots.

Had she really changed so much?

Nancy's eyes softened as she reached out and lay her hand on Betty's forearm. "It scares you."

"A little," she shifted in her seat. "I don't know why . . . I feel like a stranger."

"That's normal," her friend nodded, taking a bit of yogurt for herself. "You are exactly the same as you were before, Betty. Just a little wiser. And, you have to admit, a little happier. It's all part of maturing."

"I am . . . was mad at Jughead this morning," she quickly admitted, feeling decidedly immature at the moment. "We haven't seen much of each other lately, with the two of us dealing with family things and hanging out with friends separately. I had called him to see if he wanted to see a movie, but he said he needed to nap. Which . . . I know is the usual Juggie behavior . . . but, I feel duped!"

Nancy snorted. "Well, I would too, in your shoes. But, you have to admit, you are dating The Jughead Jones. Notorious glutton and napper. It is bound to happen. You probably do things that irk him sometimes."

Betty frowned at that. "Like what?"

She shrugged. "Beats me. I'm not the one dating you."

"Smart-ass."

Nancy laughed. "Chuck can get pretty irritating when he is in 'athlete mode,' and I know that he can get annoyed by my need to drag him to every chick-flick that comes out in theaters. It's all a part of dating, and you know it. You've been dating for over a decade now. You know the dance."

"Yeah, but I'm not dating just any guy. I'm dating Jughead-my-stomach-is-bigger-than-my-libido-Jones."

Nancy nearly choked on her spoonful of yogurt. "Oh my God. You did not just put Jughead and libido in the same sentence!"

"What? He can be sexy!"

"Jughead?"

"You saw him at the dance!"

"Pu~lease! That boy always cleans up at dances. His mother wouldn't let him out otherwise!"

"Then just take my word for it!"

Nancy grinned and leaned forward. "Oh, hell no. The conversation is finally getting really interesting. Why is Jughead sexy? Do tell!"

Betty took half a second to consider holding out on the juicer aspects of their relationship before she realized that he was practically bursting with the need to share everything.

So she did.

Her face burned with a mixture of pride, excitement, embarrassment, and a smidgen of lust as she whispered the heated moments she had kept to herself ever since Jughead and she began this unexpected dance. Jughead can kiss. Jughead can pull you so deeply into a make out session that you forget your own name. He has a secret deep-voice that he uses at just the right times. He is built like a swimmer!

"Damn~!" Nancy squealed. "I think I may be getting a bit hot over here!"

Betty sighed happily. "Oh my God, Nancy. I have never been kissed like how Jughead kisses me. I mean, he focuses all of his attention on me when we are together. Well, of course, unless there is food in the immediate vicinity, but that's just usual for him."

"Kissing. Oh wow. I guess I've always seen him run away from a smoochy female, that I always thought that he was allergic to them."

"Oh, no! Juggie is an absolute pro!"

Nancy laughed, her head thrown back in disbelief and absolute delight. "I guess there are quite a few perks in dating a genius!"

And, boy, did Betty agree. Even without him there beside her, Betty felt bright and alive. Just knowing that he was the only girl he would ever look twice at seemed surprisingly enough for her. That had never applied to her relationship with Archie . . . because she wasn't the only girl he would ever look twice at.

There was also Ronnie. Cheryl. Midge occasionally.

Every female in the county, really.

Nancy dropped their napkins in the empty yogurt cup. "So much for that righteous anger against your boyfriend, eh?"

Betty dropped their trash into a nearby trash bin as she hooked her purse over he shoulder and followed her friend to the sidewalk that would lead them through the Outlet. "I can't help it! And, don't tell me that you do the exact same thing with Chuck."

"Well, the poor boy always seems to be in some kind of trouble as far as I'm concerned," Nancy winked. "If I was angry about it all the time then we wouldn't have much of a relationship."

"Boys are soooo much work."

"Preaching to the choir, hun."

Both girls linked arms as they giggled their way along the various shops, glancing through windows and pausing every once in a while to point out cute items. The sun was high, and a cool breeze kept the day light and enjoyable. A lot of families seemed to be enjoying the pleasant weather, and for a moment, Betty felt like Riverdale was the best place in the world.

She spotted the river of red hair as the two of them neared the antique store, and Betty's smile brightened. "Cheryl!"

The red-headed heiress turned at the sound of her name and beamed at the sight of them approaching her. "Hey, girls!"

"We haven't seen you since the race," Nancy was quickly pulled into a hug, which she quickly returned. "How have you been?"

"Yeah," Betty nodded. "And, in front of an antique store of all places."

Cheryl shrugged. "This is as good a place as any to catch the eye of any passing gentleman."

The girls laughed and invited Cheryl along on their search for Nancy's lamp.

"Ooo! Interior decorating! A secret passion of mine," Cheryl grinned. "I'd love to come!"

"Just make sure that we stay within my budget and not yours." Nancy pointed.

Cheryl huffed. "Well, I knew that. It is an antique store. Hand-me-downs are a popular item among most middle-classed people."

Both girls easily shrugged off the comment, used to Cheryl being Cheryl. They had a lot of practice with Veronica, after all.

"And, speaking of that," Cheryl fingered the glass plating of a bronze lamp. "I'm actually glad that we ran into each other. My father is hosting a concert next weekend to help raise funding for breast cancer research, and I wanted to invite you and some of the other girls."

"A concert?" Nancy smiled. "Well, I'm all in for that! Anything to help my fellow women."

Betty agreed."Do you want us to invite the others?"

"The more the merrier, I say! Oh, Nancy look at this one!" Cheryl reached over to point out a particularly rustic lamp.

The movement, shifted the floral scarf she wore to compliment her strappy red dress, clearly revealing a dark hickey low on Cheryl's neck.

"Oh my God, Cheryl," Betty pounced, grasping Cheryl's arm. "Is that for real?"

Cheryl blinked, surprised to be accosted by the usually meek blond. "Is what for real?"

Betty wiggled her eyebrows, feeling ridiculously funny in the face of learning a little bit more about her nerdy classmate. "That hickey, darling!"

Nancy appeared at Betty's elbow. "Where? Where? Where?"

Cheryl smirked and turned up her nose. "Really. Were there ever any doubts that my Dilly is a man of intense romantic inclinations?"

"Dilly?" the duo echoed.

"What I call him is beside the point," she grinned. "He is my man, and has earned the right to decorate me with hickeys as he so pleases, as long as I can retain my dignity with cute scarves."

Betty laughed as she got a closer look at the hickey. "Let me guess: this has given you the perfect reason to be obsessed with neck-wear now?"

"Very French, don't you think?"

"In more than one way," Nancy grinned. "Wow, I didn't think that he had it in him."

"What can I say?" Cheryl winked, readjusting her scarf. "I bring out the beast in every man." She dropped a look at Betty. "Well, except one."

The blond beamed.

Nancy sighed, leaning heavily against Betty's arm with an exaggerated swoon. "Gosh, you guys are killing me. Who knew that I was a sucker for odd-ball romances?"

"I resent that," Cheryl pouted. "I am beautiful, and stylish, and cunning to the nth degree! No part of my person is odd."

"I'm afraid that that has changed now, hun," Nancy laughed. "If you and Dilton are for keeps, you are inheriting a little bit of oddness."

"She's right," Betty shrugged. "I've already accepted my own little odd-ball." Then, she leaned closer. "And, we are all the better for it."

It took the rest of their search through the entire antique store for the two teens to finally convince their rich friend that she was indeed a little crazy to be in a relationship with her polar opposite. And, that a little bit of crazy went a long way towards happiness.

They eventually found two complimentary lamps and Nancy purchased them on a deal that Cheryl easily convinced the cashier to give them with her perfect winks and smiles. A fake phone number also earned them a free home delivery.

Sometimes, Betty really loved being a girl.

Cheryl treated them to a quick dinner at the local fresh market before Betty hugged her good-byes and headed back home. Her spirit felt deeply revived after a successful day of de-stressing and pointless girl-talk. After listening to the red-headed heiress regale them with deeply fantasized stories about herself and Dilton, Betty felt a little more hope for herself and her long-nosed boyfriend.

Who she missed a little bit at the moment.

Jumping the gun seemed to be the newest form of decision making in Betty's life, and she couldn't help the smile that spread over her face as she changed course and headed towards Jughead's home.

Who said anything about not being able to see her boyfriend just be cause he was not up to it?

After all, if she was anything, it was pro-active!

* * *

 

Sliding her purse off her shoulder, Betty quietly closed the bedroom door behind her. The room was cast in a warm glow from the lamp on the desk, where the radio was playing a slow jazz song. Jughead lay on his stomach in the middle of the bed, his t-shirt wrinkled beyond saving and jeans tight against his oddly curled legs.

A random snore caused him to twitch, but other than that, he remained fully ensconced in la-la land.

Betty wished she had brought a camera.

Before, she had dreamed of doing something like this to Archie. Just, having the courage to walk into his house and into his room and to just . . . curl into bed with him. And, maybe she would have.

Maybe she could have.

If there wasn't the possibility of there already being a girl in his bed, cuddling with him. Or maybe if there wasn't the chance of him throwing her a strange look before asking her what the hell she was doing.

Maybe if he didn't break her heart all the damn time.

Shedding her cardigan, Betty felt slightly exposed in just her skirt and spaghetti strap, but skin-to-skin interaction sounded like a really good idea at the moment.

And, her boyfriend was just there for the taking. She practically had the blessings of his parents, who had no problems letting her sneak into their son's room unattended.

And, she was oozing bravery.

Well, kind of.

Her heart melted as he shifted to scratch his torso.

And, he was just so damn cute!

Smiling, Betty slid out of her flip flops and slowly eased her knee down on the bed, planning on claiming the empty space between Jughead and the wall. The downy comforter seemed to pull her further down as she brought both knees up and shuffled her way over him. The bed shifted with her every movement, and she fully expected him to wake up in sheer terror at any moment.

The fact that he had only shifted minutely once she was propped up on her side beside him was slightly disappointing. She pulled her arm in and dropped her entire body down on the mattress with a plop, causing both of them to bounce a bit.

Jughead's startled shake into consciousness made her grin.

And, her grin was the first thing he saw as he cracked an eye open. Stared. Cracked open the other eye in confusion. Stared a bit more. His body was pulled tight with confusion and slight wariness.

"Betty." His voice was scratchy with sleep.

Something tingled in the base of her spine at the deep sound. "Hello, Sleeping Beauty."

His body melted back into the mattress, the tension leaving him. He readjusted his legs, sliding one shin between her bare legs. "You couldn't come up with a manlier nickname?"

"It was the first thing that came to mind," Betty reached up and brushed his hair back from his cheek. His eyes fluttered closed as he leaned into her touch and melted even further into the mattress. "You still sleepy?"

Jughead looked at her with half-lidded eyes. "Just a little. I didn't expect these past few days to be so busy. Especially with finals going on."

"Finals weren't that bad."

"They were if you only study around this time of year. I can deal with tests through out the year, but these cumulative exams wear me out."

Betty chuckled, slowly raking her nails along his scalp. "What do you know? Even the brilliant Jughead Jones needs to study once in a while."

His arm came up as his hand settled on the small of her back, a comforting link between them. "How was your day?"

"Nothing extraordinary. Went out with Nancy and Cheryl. I was heading home, but decided that I wanted to see you first."

Jughead's eyes' drifted closed, his arm pulling her closer. "How long can you stay?"

His sleepiness seemed to be rubbing off on her as Betty leaned forward to press her forehead against his. Her eyes drifted shut. "I have two more hours before they start getting worried."

"Good," he mumbled. "I'll walk you home then."

". . .o.k," she sighed, following him to dream-land with saxophones and drums nipping at their heels.

* * *

 

[Words: 3,053]


	26. Lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You found an empty seat sittin' next to me  
> and I asked your name  
> Where you comin' from?  
> Where are you headed to this Saturday?

How a quasi-date turned into a late-night study session was beyond Jughead to comprehend at such a late hour.

His eyes scanned the digital clock behind Betty's head and read the glowing numbers. 8:35pm.

Well, it was late for him. And, it was especially too late to be dealing with math homework, let alone college applications. Which he was currently dealing with. Simultaneously.

Math and college and Betty and 8:35 pm all having a party in his bedroom.

It was a shame that Jughead was too lazy to do a thing about it.

Plus, there was a bright side to all this.

He was in his room. And, he was in a pair of old sweatpants that seemed to get more comfortable with age. Both of these elements were very conducive to a night of comfort and relaxation. His parents were dozing in their room with their television on and their bedroom door closed, and Jellybean slept peacefully in her bed with Hotdog dozing off nearby . Another positive element.

And, Betty.

Betty Cooper sat on his bedroom floor. In blue jean shorts and a droopy tan t-shirt that hung delicately off of one shoulder. All long limbed and frustrated as she wrestled with a math problem that he would be more than happy to help her with if she asked. Her hair was pinned up into a messy bun by half of his pen collection.

A surprising element.

In more ways than one.

It made it a little harder for him to focus on the half-completed college application in front of him. "Tell me why I'm doing this again?"

Baby blues turned up to him. "Hm?"

He waved the form at her as a crease formed between her eyebrows.

"This will be our last summer of high school, Juggie. Once we start our senior year, we'll be too busy to worry about college applications. There is not time like the present to start." She looked back down at her math sheet with a shrug that exposed a little more skin. "Besides, you need something to keep you occupied while I finish this stupid review sheet. I swear . . . half of this stuff hasn't been covered at all this semester."

"We are juniors for another week and a half. I think we have plenty of time for applications later. Much later." He emphasized by dropping his sheet on the floor beside him and reaching for the nearby hand held game. "Need some math guidance?"

"I'm only using you as a last resort," she frowned down at the page.

Jughead shrugged, "Well, you know where to get me if you need me." He efficiently slid himself down into a reclining position on the carpeting beside Betty, a pillow propped under his shoulders and his legs bent at the knees against the blond's side. A relatively comfortable position if he did say so himself.

Betty rolled her eyes at his casual dismissal of their future education and refocused on the sheet in front of her.

Were there better ways to spend a Thursday night?

Jughead really couldn't think of any at the moment as he focused on the mini adventures of Donkey Kong and the feel of Betty's side expanding and compressing with each breath against him.

Luckily for him, Jughead had played this particular version of Donkey Kong roughly 12 times. He could beat it in his sleep, but despite knowing every secret in the game's coding, he found comfort in playing a game that could easily sooth his brain and leave his mind for wandering.

He knew that despite the obvious camaraderie and companionship he shared with his girlfriend, he and Betty were more often than not, clashing in personalities. He liked to take things easy and let life lead him on day by day. Betty considered each day as a new opportunity and sought out every silver lining she could. He didn't like planning. She loved to plan. He didn't like socializing too far out of his social circle. She embraced everyone within a 50 foot radius. He liked math and science. Betty loved reading and sharing stories.

It was an odd mix of polar opposites, and not for the first time, Jughead wondered if maybe there was some clout in the old saying. There were a wide array of reasons why he was with her, despite his previous misgivings in regards to female companionship. And, while he had no idea what she saw in him, he wasn't selfish enough to turn away from her.

Though, as he considered her past relationships, he could see why she was so comfortable with him. After all, he was a different kind of guy from Archie: he didn't notice—let alone chase—after other women, didn't consider the family car a particularly important member of the family, and failed to have an unhealthy obsession with testosterone-centric sports.

Did Betty think that he was a catch?

Jughead wondered if he was due for some ego stroking.

As he helped Donkey Kong navigate through yet another crocodile-infested level, he felt Betty growl against his leg before she straightened and slammed her calculator on the review packet.

Welcome to the end of Betty Cooper's patience, Jughead grinned.

"I think it's time for a break," she sighed, rolling her shoulders then repositioning her shirt to its rightful place.

"Want to try a round of Donkey Kong?"

She smiled at him before shaking her head and climbing unsteadily to her feet. His legs fell to the side without the support and he frowned.

"No, but I sure wouldn't mind some of your mom's leftover corn-bread casserole," Betty swung her arms back and forth to loosen them up before offering a hand down to help him up.

At the mention of food, Jughead was more than happy to comply as he took her hand, but used the leverage in his own legs to help himself up. "I think I can support that kind of break."

She laughed as she lead him out of the room, their fingers still laced together. "You would support any kind of break, Jughead Jones."

"Guilty as charged."

Their voices dropped to loud whispers the minute they crossed the threshold from warmly-lit bedroom, to sleepy-shadowed house. For a moment, Jughead felt like a giddy 10-year old, sneaking around his own house to steal a few snacks from the pantry. Energy buzzed under his skin with the unexpected excitement as he felt Betty tug him along, her own footsteps lighter than his own.

His eyes adjusted quickly to the soft darkness as they made a bee-line to the kitchen. The cold laminate under their feet was a surprising shock. And, if the sudden promise of food hadn't woken him up completely, then the cold did.

"Socks would have been a good idea," he whispered.

Betty grinned at him. "You lack any adventure, Juggie. If we had socks, then sneaking around would have been too easy." She pulled open the fridge, momentarily casting the entire kitchen in a harsh glow before she grabbed the covered casserole dish and placing it on the counter. "Did you ever wear socks when you snuck around in our elementary school years?"

"I was small and possessed an uncanny level of ninja skills. I didn't need socks."

Her chuckles followed on the heels of that statement. "Of course. What was I thinking?"

After Betty removed the plastic wrap from the dish, Jughead took over. "We won't bother with splitting it up. I can eat this cold, but it tastes better hot." He turned the oven on to preheat.

Betty pulled two forks from the utensil drawer and placed them near her before leaning a hip on the counter. "Why not just nuke it?"

"I would," Jughead sighed. "But, Uncle Herman tinkered with it, and now instead of beeping lightly once something is done heating up, it blares like a fog horn."

"What in the world was he trying to do?"

"I don't claim to understand what goes on in his head, but I think he was on a health kick at the time, and was trying to make the microwave more effective with less radiation usage. How that resulted in him kicking up the noise is a science problem for someone who cares enough about it."

Betty shook her head as she hopped up on the counter and crossed her ankles. The two of them seemed content to share a little bit of comfortable silence while the oven preheated: Betty's eyes sliding closed, as she often did when in deep thought, and Jughead just . . . looking at her.

Seeing her sit so close to where they shared their first kiss—their first real kiss—brought back all kinds of memories of that night. Which was unusual . . . but becoming much more of an occurrence lately.

He was in his kitchen. Heck, he was in his own house. Usually, he couldn't think past eating or napping to get much of anything done within these walls. In fact, his general laziness was shrinking little by little as he kept up his current relationship with Betty.

He took the time to wonder just what had changed so quickly in such a short amount of time, that he was standing in his own kitchen and thinking about kissing Betty Cooper senseless instead of shoveling half-frozen casserole down his throat.

Was this kind of thinking normal?

It was for Archie, and he had made a career out of dating. But, he wasn't Archie or Reggie or any of those other guys at school.

Was he in danger of turning into one of them?

Now, that was enough to scare the bejeezus out of him. Right on time, the oven finished preheating and he shook himself out of his thoughts and slid the casserole into the oven.

Betty nudged him in the tip with her toes. "You know, I don't think I've ever eaten as much as I have since we started dating. You are becoming a bad influence."

He arched an eyebrow as he turned towards her. "I always eat. And, eating is a great way to keep up your immune system. How is that a bad influence?"

She narrowed her eyes and playfully kicked him with a slight swing of her legs. "A bad influence on my waist line, thank you very much. Track season is over. I no longer have my usual calorie burning regime to help me keep up with your never ending food binges."

He frowned. "What is it with you girls and worrying about your weight? You look perfectly fine and healthy. And, I do recall this particular late night snack being your idea."

Betty laughed, her whole body glowing with her amusement. "Such a romantic. And, you've been exposed to Ronnie and me for an unhealthy amount of years. You know how ridiculous us girls can be when it comes to weight and beauty." She grinned. "Remember that week a few years back when I had Nancy give me a different hair do every day?"

Boy, did he remember. Even then, he thought that Betty looked pretty amazing. And, he hadn't even liked her like he did now.

"Just seeing the jealous rage on Ronnie's face!" She reminisced fondly. "Sometimes, a girl needs to feel just as pretty as the prettiest girl on the block."

Betty's shoulder began to peek out from her shirt, once again, and as the oven warmed the kitchen, Jughead became more comfortable watching her talk. And, this was Betty at her most abandoned. Without anyone else in the room, it was obvious that she was very comfortable speaking freely, saying anything that came to her mind, and radiating a sense of truth that was usually dulled by her required daily personalities.

He couldn't imagine any one more beautiful than that.

And, now that he was Betty's boyfriend . . . well, he had liberties.

Jughead kept a small bit of his attention on the casserole—after all, he was still hungry—and turned his body fully towards Betty. He only needed to take a small step before he came into contact with her knees.

He watched as Betty's attention immediately snapped to him, her brain shutting down any running thoughts as her body tensed. Her total focus was heady.

"Betty," he whispered her name as his hands came to rest lightly above her knees. Her skin was warm against his, and he resisted the urge to melt into her.

Her blue eyes were wide, hopeful, excited, and unbelievable as her gaze went from his hands to his face. "Yes?" Her whisper was just as quiet as his.

He applied a bit of coaxing pressure to her legs, to which she immediately unhooked her ankles. His torso slid easily between her knees and he feared that his heart would collapse within his chest. Betty's knuckles were white from where she gripped the edge of the counter. Knowing that she was just as affected as he was, kept him moving forward. "You are beautiful."

A shy smile graced her face as she brought once graceful hand to cup the side of his neck. "Juggie . . ."

He smiled in response. "The prettiest girl on the block."

Her blush didn't recede, and her smile remained content as she brought her other hand up, gently sliding it up his arm and shoulder, anchoring the two of them together. "Thank you."

"And, you don't need to diet. Ever."

"Juggie?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm going to kiss you now."

Ah, a common goal.

Jughead smirked. "By all means."

And, the hidden strength in her hands and fingers tightened on him as she pulled him a half-step closer until she encompassed all of him. Her lips were soft under his, as they nearly sighed in unison.

Until this moment, Jughead didn't realize just how much he missed having Betty in his arms. The past few weeks had consisted of simple pecks, hand holding, and hugs, but nothing as intense as their first make-out session in this same corner.

Her lips parted under his, and his body immediately fell into eons of deeply ingrained male instinct: deepening the kiss and pressing tighter against her. Betty's fingers laced through his hair, knocking his beanie off as her knees tightened around him. His hands, which had remained immobile from their place above her knees, slid slowly up her legs. His fingertips glided over smooth skin as he mapped a trail up to her hips. Her t-shirt caught on his hand, giving him a chance to rest one of his hands on the warm skin of her torso.

Jughead wondered if anyone could gain a craving for more skin.

Betty gasped as his grip tightened on her midsection, pulling her flush against him and allowing Jughead to indulge in a deeper pull of her taste and warmth. Her eyelashes fluttered against his cheek and if he groaned a bit, then it was lost within their kisses. His fingertips met at the small of her back as her chest pressed sensually against his.

The smell of baking casserole wrapped around them, and Jughead was sure that he was in heaven.

One of Betty's hands slid under the neck of his t-shirt running over his shoulder blades as she broke their kiss for air. Setting his sights on her bared shoulder, Jughead leaned his head down and ran his tongue along the smooth ridge of her clavicle to the exposed shoulder. Her sigh wrapped around his chest as he closed his eyes to immerse himself in everything: her arms and legs wrapped around him, her chest and torso pressed solidly against his. He couldn't seem to get enough as his hands hiked higher up her back, dragging her shirt up and exposing her bellybutton.

Jughead was seized with the urge to bend down and kiss it, but was quickly distracted by Betty's neck, as she tilted her head to give him more to explore.

"Juggie . . ." she whispered, his name a quiet mantra as she tried pulling him closer. Her hands worked their way down his sides to grab the ends of his t-shirt, lifting it up just enough to expose his stomach. Jughead shuddered at the skin on skin contact and wondered if he was about to combust. The sweet friction of their torsos rubbing and touching nearly did Jughead in, dropping his forehead into the cradle of Betty's neck and shoulder as he simply held her close.

Betty seemed to panting just as much as he was, so he closed his eyes and tried to match his breathing with hers: willing the two of them to catch their breath and calm back down.

He felt Betty rub her cheek against the crown of his head as her hands traced nonsensical patterns along his lower back.

It felt wonderful.

And, the increased smell of piping hot casserole meant that it was ready to be pulled out of the oven.

He felt Betty shutter against him as she slowly covered their torsos with their respective t-shirts and re-wrapped her arms around him so that he was comfortably cradled between her thighs. "God, Jughead. How did I ever get this far without you?"

He chuckled, dropping one last kiss on the corner of her eye before pulling away, his hand still under her shirt. "You always had me."

With warm eyes, Betty wiggled her eyebrows. "Well, then. I guess, I just need to make sure you stay."

That was just fine with him.

And, he would share that particular opinion with her . . . as soon as he saved their late night snack.

* * *

 

[Word Count: 2,952]


	27. Metal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You can't live without the fire  
> it's the heat that makes you strong  
> Cause you're born to love  
> and fight it all the way

Betty was in a pickle.

Of course, one wouldn't think so just looking at her.

After all, she was an honorary invitee to the Jones's household for dinner. This meant amazing food and sharing a table with Jughead and his family and generally enjoying some pleasant company (as opposed to Jughead eating at her house where her father could waiver between giving her boyfriend the stink eye or grinning with the self-satisfying knowledge that he would never have to share a dinner table with Archie Andrews again.)

While Mrs. Jones prepared their dinner, she was hanging out in Jellybean's room with Jughead, Hotdog, and the little tyke. A Disney special was on and if Jellybean liked anything more than Disney specials, it was watching Disney specials with her older brother. Jughead honestly didn't seem to mind as long as he was fed within the next half hour.

Standing in the bathroom, Betty washed her hands and did a quick make-up check in the mirror. She didn't wear much makeup past the bare minimum, but eyeliner could be a finicky thing, and it was always a good idea to make sure that it hadn't accidentally been wiped into nonexistence. She knew that Jughead didn't care what she looked like, and while Betty appreciated it (and honestly, it was one of the many things that endeared him to her), she wanted to always look presentable around his parents. Her honey, blond hair was up in a half-ponytail, and her attire was casual with a simple white button-down with lace accents on the collar and khaki shorts. There were remnants of a dirty paw print on the cuff of her pants from Hotdog's avid welcome, but other than that, she felt presentable.

Betty turned to leave the bathroom and nearly stumbled as her mostly-healed ankle tinged. "Yikes," she gasped, quickly catching herself on the wall before looking down and rolling her foot to loosen up the muscles. According to the doctor, there wasn't going to be any permanent damage. By next season, she would be back to running shape, but that was only if she allowed it to heal fully. With this season being over, most of her daylight hours were spent sitting at a desk or walking to school. Times with Jughead usually resulted in sitting to eat, casual walks, lying in bed to talk or play video games . . . or getting pinned onto surfaces for hot make-out sessions.

All ankle friendly.

Putting a hand to her warming cheeks, she tried to cool back down and force her grin back to a sensible smile before opening the bathroom door and walking back to Jellybean's bedroom. Still a bit stiff, her ankle insisted on being bothersome, but she tried keeping her stride as even as possible.

Jellybean's room was very typical for a young girl's. Accented by Hello Kitty print curtains, pink lamps, and sky blue striped wallpaper, it was an organized mess of coloring books, a small television, a white desk covered with crayons and colored pencils, and a wide array of stuffed dolls. There were a few toy cars mixed in with the dolls, and Betty liked the idea of having another tom-boy around to help her mess around with Juggie.

Jellybean looked up the moment Betty walked in. "Hurry, hurry, Betty! The commercials just ended and you are going to miss the best parts." She bounced with every other word, shaking the bed and rousing Hotdog from his nap against her headboard.

According to the little girl, every part of the movie was the best part, so the blond simply grinned before making her way to the two beanbag chairs at the foot of the bed and plopped into the one not occupied by Jughead. The boy in question seemed content to eat from his pre-dinner bowl of cereal as he shifted his legs to make more room for her to stretch out.

Moments like this reminded Betty just how long Jughead's legs were, and to take full advantage of them, she simply propped her legs over his.

"Did I miss anything?"

"Since I know for a fact that you have seen this movie two times before, I am deigning not to answer your question," he arched an eyebrow at her legs before shrugging and finishing of his bowl.

She stuck her tongue out at him and settled back into her seat, shifting her leg a bit to alleviate some of the pain in her ankle. Once comfortable, she refocused on the movie: Jellybean's endless commentary running in the background.

Jughead was right. She had seen this movie twice before and while it was one of her favorites, she was more than happy to just relax, letting her eyes slip closed for a moment. Her boyfriend's relaxation tendencies seemed to be rubbing off on her: not that she could complain too much. Ever since she started dating Jughead and not worrying about the latest antics of Archie and Veronica, Betty had found more and more moments in the day to just doze off. They only lasted a few minutes, but it seemed to be just what she needed to refocus her thoughts and finish her days with less stress. She was even considering a yoga class for the summer just to see how much more relaxed she could get.

Maybe Jughead wouldn't mind joining her?

Imagining Jughead in yoga poses was a door she quickly shut in her mind.

Opening her eyes, she looked at the television screen, but focused her attention inwards.

It seemed that there was one pitfall in her relationship with Jughead . . . and she wasn't sure if it was exactly something she could bring up with him.

Her relationship with Archie had its emotional ups and downs, but there was more than just him surprising her with concert tickets or leaving her for Veronica's every whim. The red head had a way of really giving a girl attention. Whenever Veronica (or any other girl for that matter) wasn't around, and he was completely focused on Betty, he would touch her.

Arm around her shoulders. Hands on her hips. Fingers through her hair. A solid touch at the small of her back.

Whenever they were alone, he wasn't shy about getting his hands under her clothes . . . and while it had startled Betty at first to have a guy touch her outside her clothes, it was a whole new experience all together when skin that barely ever touched fresh air was touched by the whims of another.

Betty had liked the touches. And, because Archie stayed within boundaries, she never had any complaints if his fingers strayed a little further up her thighs or if his hands molded against the cottony cup of her bra. He would tell her she was beautiful and she would sigh it back to him: her own hands roaming under his shirts.

She really wanted that with Jughead.

The memories of their stomachs rubbing together was a vivid image in her memory, and her skin tingled in remembrance. Jughead and her hadn't gotten as far as Archie did, but that night, in Jughead's kitchen, she couldn't remember feeling that . . . amazing?

That couldn't be the right word.

Pretty? Beautiful? Oh, hell. Sexy.

God. She felt sexy.

And, with Jughead Jones!

The slight clatter of Jughead putting his cereal bowl down brought her back to the present. Seeing all of the stuffed animals in her peripheral vision, Betty wondered if maybe she deserved to be struck by lightning for thinking erotic thoughts about Jughead in his little sister's room.

Oh, my God, what is wrong with me? She shifted to climb back to her feet, hoping to escape before the blush burning her cheeks could be noticed, when she felt a large hand grasp the skin over her ankle: her injured ankle.

Luckily, Jughead seemed unaware of her inner thoughts as he pulled her leg up higher on his thigh. "This bothering you again, Sunshine?"

Betty's blue eyes were riveted on his fingers as they slowly began to massage around the healing area. "I-it's just a little sore today," she tried pulling her leg out of his grasp. "And, you don't have to do that . . ."

His grip, and the massage, didn't relent. "It's not a bother. Stop fidgeting or you'll hurt yourself even more."

Well . . . it did feel really good. Betty slumped back down and watched his hands move up and down her leg. If he noticed the goose bumps that rose with each brush of his fingertips, he didn't comment on it.

Then, she remembered his earlier question. "What do you mean 'bothering me again?' My ankle has been fine."

Jughead shrugged, his half hooded eyes not straying from the path between television screen and her ankle. The faded bruise was barely noticeable, but he was careful enough to work around it. "You were stressed about finals this week. Being preoccupied, you weren't that good at hiding the fact that you were limping," he arched an eyebrow at her. "And, you try to hide the limp all the time."

Betty huffed. "I don't try to hide anything."

He tweaked her big toe. "Liar."

She grinned at him as he moved up to her shins, the muscles gradually relaxing under his administrations. "I never would have pegged you as a masseuse, Juggie."

His fingers found a knot, and set to work on smoothing it out. "I grew up giving my mom shoulder rubs. Dad and Uncle Herman have always caused her a lot of stress."

"I'm sure she appreciates them," Betty smiled.

"Her appreciation usually results in baked goods, so I don't mind."

Betty giggled behind her hand, mindful of Jellybean's attention on the movie.

Jughead's hands were warm and sure. There was no fumbling as he worked his way along her leg. Here, he radiated confidence and comfort, even with her blatant invasion of his personal space. She wondered at that.

Even with his friends, Jughead was distant. He loved his personal space and he liked to guard that personal space by filling it with food. He only seemed comfortable whenever Archie was close by: both boys perfectly comfortable with slinging arms around shoulders or rubbing elbows during heated sports games. She wondered if he was comfortable being close to her before they started dating.

(And, in all honesty, it was hard to remember how things were before kissing Jughead became a norm.)

But, now.

Now, she was the only person in the world (possibly other than Jellybean), that could throw her legs over Jughead's and the boy in question wouldn't mind. She was the only girl in the world who got leg massages from Jughead. The only girl who got to make out with Juggie in a kitchen.

His fingers moved back down towards her ankle.

And, oh.

What she would give for Jughead to slip his fingertips under the hem of her shorts. What she would give to not be in Jellybeans room, but locked up in Jughead's room while they lay on his bed and just touched.

They would do more and feel more and be more than she had ever been with Archie.

It was something she wanted very much.

But, Betty knew that it was probably the one thing she couldn't have. At least right now. It was easy with Archie because he wanted to touch her more than she did. He could just lead them right into and she could just hang on for the ride.

Jughead was Jughead. He was clear and still shrowded in mystery in regards to what he wanted or needed from Betty. He seemed content with the heavy petting they managed outside the barrier of their clothes. When she forced theirs stomachs to touch in his kitchen, he didn't seem disgusted as she clung to him and tried to meld with his skin.

Betty was patient and she wouldn't push. If anyone was worth patience, it was Jughead: who was all "cool-guy" but still a relative noob in the dating business.

They both had to be ready before moving to the next step.

They both had to want it.

"Dinner's ready kids!" Mrs. Jones yelled up the stairs.

Hotdog shot off the bed and ran out the room, Jellybean cheering at his heels.

Taking quick advantage of their sudden privacy, Betty slid her leg from Jughead's hands and leaned forward just as he grabbed his bowl. She met the surprise on his face with a smile of her own. Knees on either side of his outstretched legs, she leaned forward and dropped a kiss on his forehead and the tip of his nose.

His free hand cupped her waist as he glanced at her. "You are making me late for my dinner, Betty."

Her next kiss dropped on the skin under his left eye.

And, apparently, the promise of food did wonders in shortening Jughead's patience, as he dropped the bowl back down, laced his fingers through Betty's hair and pulled her down so that their lips could finally meet.

A beautifully innocent kiss. Closed lips. Drawn out, as she traced the corner of his lips with her own before pulling away.

"Thank you for the massage, hun."

Jughead smiled. "You can thank me later. I smell pot roast."

* * *

 

[Word Count: 2,232]


	28. New

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's something unpredictable  
> But in the end it's right  
> I hope you had the time  
> of your life

For the first time in his life, Jughead Jones is standing in a grocery store for someone else.

Well, that's not entirely true. He was just popping in to pick up some taco seasoning mix for his sudden craving for burritos, when he decided to send a quick text to Betty to see if she needed anything. They were planning on meeting up that night for dinner at the new fondue restaurant downtown, and since he was going to see her anyway, decided that it was the "boyfriend-y" thing to do.

Her only request was a tin of herbal tea he remembered Betty drinking often at her home: Peach Chamomile.

She had also added that she would pay him back. He promptly ignored that promise and pocketed his phone.

Jughead could never understand the lack of crowds in food markets on Sundays. Monday through Saturday, every supermarket and grocery store was packed with whiny children, stressed out moms, and husbands standing awkwardly in the tampon aisle as they tried to avoid eye contact with each other. More often than not, Jughead braved these crowds because his love for edible, delicious sustenance far outweighed his dislike for huge congregations. (As if anything could get between him and the bakery.)

But, on Sundays, normal people preferred to have other people stress over meals for them. Families ate out for breakfast, lunch, or dinner-or maybe for all three-if the past week called for it. Others ate whatever was in the pantry: cleaning everything out so that they could spend the next week restocking.

This was never such a practice in the Jones's household. Even if they went out to eat, there was always something to pick up from the grocers on the way home. Jughead may inadvertently eat them out of house and home single-handedly one day, but he wasn't the only avid eater in the family by any means. Everyone in his family loved cooking and eating food. While most of them had their particular favorites, Jughead was completely unbiased when it came to what was shoved into his face.

If it could be digested in the human body he would eat it.

Fondue was new.

His experience with fondue only extended as far as the chocolate fountain that served as the centerpiece of Ronnie's 9th birthday when they were kids. Strawberries, cubes of cake, marshmallows, mangos, and practically everything under the sun (Jughead had tried dipping those little fancy sausages, wrapped in bacon, and it was the best thing ever). So, when Betty showed an interest in both of them trying out a restaurant that only served fondue, he was fully on board.

It was beyond him exactly how the restaurant was set up to successfully satisfy a hunger for dinner with fondue, but it was food. And, a date centered around food never went wrong. Especially one with Betty Cooper and Jughead Jones: food extraordinaire.

Looking forward to dinner, Jughead found himself in a pretty good mood as he grabbed a plastic basket and made his way through the grocery aisles.

Taco seasoning. Might as well get some chips. Well, you can't get chips without salsa. And, what's salsa without guacamole? Not the canned stuff but the homemade stuff, so a quick run through the fruits and vegetables for ingredients. Well, if the guacamole is gonna be made, might as well make the salsa, too. Leave the salsa behind and pick up more vegetables.

This was why his mom gave him extra money.

His basket was mostly full by the time he reached a table of samples for a new candy bar. He honestly didn't see the point in chopping perfectly fine candy bars into spit-sized pieces just so that some innocent passer-by could be disappointed by a minuscule snack. How was anyone supposed to figure out if the new Nutty Bar was worth buying if the samples offered were too small to even taste? How was he supposed to enjoy a lick of chocolate or a lick of peanut butter?

Sadistic.

Jughead made up for this blasphemy by swiping three samples in one go: dumping all of the pieces into one cup before throwing it back. It still didn't amount to even a decent bite, but it was better than nothing. And, maybe this new bar wasn't too bad. He could see Betty enjoying it and grabbed a box.

Tossing the empty plastic cups, Jughead made his final turn to pick up Betty's tea.

As a kid, the tea and coffee aisle had always smelled funny to him. His father and cooky uncle had always smelled of the caffeinated stuff in their 24-7 hour bouts of genius and science and utter mayhem. The stuff was harsh to his younger nose, and left traces of spice and sourness on his tongue every time he breathed near a fresh cup of coffee or tea.

The smell wasn't as overpowering now, but still much stronger than the light essence of tea that floated in Betty's kitchen and bedroom. Mrs. Cooper had first introduced tea into the household during her non-traditional college years a few years back, and Betty was slow to catch onto her mother's craze until she realized the health benefits.

If Betty was anything, it was a health-nut.

Jughead would drink it when offered, but he wasn't a big fan of it. Unless there was a lot of sugar involved.

He sauntered halfway down the deserted aisle before coming upon the familiar silver tins of Betty's tea brand. He knew that his girlfriend had tried most of the different tea varieties from this particular company, but her favorite was peach chamomile. Honey lavender was a close second, and after mentally calculating how much his basket cost before taxes at the moment, he dropped a tin of the lavender in before reaching for the peach chamomile.

A startled choke made him pause mid-reach and turn to see the surprised gaze of Archie Andrews, a basket of food in his hand.

The awkwardness between them as they stared at each other was irritating, startling, and depressing at the same time. Jughead mentally kicked himself for contributing to the awkwardness before continuing his reach for the tea and clearing his throat. His usual grin was quickly pulled onto his face. "Hey, Arch."

The red-head snapped out of his daze and tried to grin back, the light not really meeting his eyes. "Uh, hey, Jug." He motioned to the full basket in his friend's hand. "Planning a fiesta?"

Jughead shrugged, "Point me to a store that sells sombreros and I'll think about it. What cha' up to?"

Archie's body language screamed discomfort, as he rubbed the point of his sneaker along the back of his pants leg. Shoving his free hand into the pocket of his jeans, he lightly shook the basket. "The parents have a bunch of stuff going on this week, so I'll be fending for myself on dinners."

The collection of microwave dinners, snack bags, and bottled water looked vaguely unappetizing.

Archie offered a weak chuckle. "Figured I'd keep things easy since burning down the kitchen won't be such a great idea."

Jughead turned away from the collection of silver tins, Betty's tea clutched in his hand. "We can go out to Pop's a few nights," he offered. "We have enough free time with summer finally here."

"Do you think you have the time?"

He probably didn't mean to sound as sarcastic as Jughead heard, but that didn't stop the awkwardness to kick up a few notches between them. Archie's face burned red as he eyes traced the black scuff marks on the aisle floor and Jughead stared at the frozen pizza box in Archie's basket. Was the static in his chest normal? Was this how the Twilight Zone felt like to all those people in their black and white and grayscale world?

Was this how a friendship that lasted over ten years was supposed to end?

Was it even ending?

Jughead wanted to know just how they had gotten to this point. None of it made sense.

Archie and he were buddies. Are buddies. They grew up picking on each other, sticking up for each other, doing stupid stuff, and pushing that stupid jalopy Archie owned through all kinds of roads and potholes. They were best friends!

Everything was the same.

Everything!

It was still Riverdale. They were still high school teenagers. Jughead still ate his body weight in food and Archie still flirted shamelessly with any girl in a 30 mile radius.

Everything was the same.

And, the things that weren't shouldn't have mattered.

Jughead refused to believe that this was just because of Betty. It was absolutely impossible. Just because he was now dating Betty didn't change anything. Their group was still the same. Still Archie, Jughead, Betty, Veronica, Reggie, Chuck, Nancy, Dilton, Moose, and Midge and practically everyone in their class. They could still hang out and do stupid things and hang out at the beach and waste time like they did every year.

Everything was freaking the same.

So, why was this different.

Archie and Jughead had never had an awkward moment between them for as long as they had known each other.

And, it just couldn't be about this new thing between him and Betty.

It couldn't.

Clearing his throat, Archie scrambled for words. Archie Andrews. Scrambling for words with his best friend.Could things not get any weirder? "I mean, what I meant was, that you seem to spend a lot of time with Betty these days."

Jughead wasn't going there. "Probably no different from the amount of times you have with Ronnie."

"I guess . . . how are you two doing anyway?" Archie tried to make the question seem light-hearted, friendly. Inquiring.

Jughead settled for telling the truth. Because there was no reason for him and Archie to be like this. Placing the tea tin in his basket, he unconsciously mirrored the red-head's stance: stuffing his free hand in the pockets of his ripped shorts as he turned to face him. "It's really no different from being friends with Betty. Just more hanging out involved."

"Yeah . . ." Archie smiled at that. "That's how it usually is with her." He motioned at the shelves around them. "But it looks like she's affecting your tastes. You've never had herbal tea in your life."

"I'll drink it, but it's not as good as a reliable can of soda." Jughead smirked. "But, no. Just picking up a tin for Betty while I'm grabbing all this other stuff."

"Oh. Right." Archie sighed, squinting at a nearby tea tin label. "I didn't even know that Betty drank this stuff."

Jughead wondered if his friend even realized what he said. He shifted the basket from one hand to the other. "Well, since you're feigning for yourself this week, how about we all hang out at Pop's for dinner sometime? I'm always in the mood for a burger."

Archie laughed. "Sounds like a plan. Mr. Lodge can only stand me at their house for so many nights, you know?"

"Please, Arch. You're talking to me. Your best friend. I know your track record with the parents of teenaged girls. There's probably a state-wide Archie Andrews code to warn other parents away."

"Probably," the red-head chuckled. "But, yeah . . . we should hang. Though, maybe we should make it a guy's night? I wouldn't mind a rematch with Reggie at the arcade."

The basket was getting heavy in Jughead's hand as he switched to his other arm. "Sounds good. Just tell me when and where to be."

"Cool." This time, Archie's smile felt a little more real as he refocused on the shelves of tea.

And, that was his cue to skee-dadle. "I better get going before the parentals start wondering if I stopped for a snack break." Jughead walked up to his friend and dropped his free hand on Archie's shoulder. "Catch up with you later, bud."

"Jug, wait."

The brunette stopped, his hand still resting on Archie's shoulder.

"I just . . . man. Come on. Jughead," Archie turned his body towards him, leaving his hand floating awkwardly in the air before Jughead slipped it back in his pocket. "You are my friend. And, it's just . . . I can be honest with you, right?"

The static in Jughead's chest began to spread. That had to be a rhetorical question. And . . .

Archie could not seriously be doing what Jughead thought he was doing . . .

He couldn't be this stupid.

Selfish.

Archie ignored the lack of response and barreled forward. "I just . . . I need to know, Jug. This is just a, a phase, right? This thing between you and Betty? I mean, I know you two have been friends since we were all kids, and sometimes things can get confusing, what with all that stuff they teach us at school about hormones blurring things up. And, I've been talking with Ronnie and reading up on stuff and maybe this is-"

"Do you want us to break up?" Jughead had to stop Archie's word vomit. Had to.

The hope in Archie's face was like a punch in his stomach. "What, really?"

It took a lot of self-control for Jughead not to just walk away. Or throw his own punch at Archie's stupid stupid stupid face. "What would happen then, Arch? Betty and I would go back as friends, and she'll just get back in the "chasing Archie Andrews" groove?"

Archie finally seemed to sense the resentment in his voice, as his he took a small step back. "Wha, Jug-"

Jughead barreled over his interruption, because he needed things to be clear freaking now. "And, you'll keep on stringing her along throughout senior year, just like you always have. Because, you'll be glad that she's back in love with you, you'll go out on a few dates before Ronnie get's your attention again, or Cheryl, or Midge, or some other girl who happens to walk in front of you at any moment in the day. And, on graduation day, you think she'll still be standing there pining and waiting for the day you propose to her? Are you that deluded?"

The redhead was pale as he swayed between, indignation and outright anger, but Jughead didn't care. He was fucking done. He should have seen this coming. Days and days of Archie's unsupportive moods and actions towards this relationship, and the whole time, Jughead had deluded himself into thinking that his best friend would eventually grow a pair and just be happy for him.

The Archie Andrews standing before him was not a new Archie. It wasn't even the old Archie.

This wasn't his best friend.

This redhead, clenching his fist like he was the one being wronged here, was a stranger. A complete stranger.

Jughead wished he had the energy and the will to just yell and scream and punch and fight and prove that Betty was better than this. That he, Forsythe P. Jones III, was someone worth loving. That even if he and Betty weren't forever, they would always be friends, and Betty was meant for greater and better things than Riverdale and Archie. That HE was meant for greater and better things than Archie and hate and the destruction of friendships that are supposed to mean something.

The plastic handles of the basket bit into his hand as Jughead took a deep breath and stepped back. "You know what, don't bother calling me."

Archie sputtered as Jughead turned around and marched away. "Wha-Jug-Jughead!"

Jughead knew every single one of these new emotions and feelings numbing his limbs.

And, he hated them all.

* * *

 

[Word Count: 2,627]


	29. Old

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And you can tell everybody this is your song  
> It may be quite simple,  
> Now that it's done  
> I hope you don't mind

Betty didn't mean to get side tracked.

Thank-You cards clutched in her hands, the blond found herself standing by the Team Spirit Wall within the sparsely populated hallways of Riverdale High; smiling at the large collage of framed sports pictures, trophies, and medals. She was proud to note that she knew most of the smiling faces immortalized behind the freshly dusted glass. In many of the photos, she was smiling, sweating, and winning right alongside them.

Seeing three whole years of her high school life on a single wall was almost overwhelming. And, it was both exciting and terrifying to be faced with the fact that she only had one more year to pile even more memories over this surface of exposed brick before she would be done.

This time, next year, she would be following a different sidewalk, hallway, or road to somewhere else.

Betty wondered just how massive trophy walls had to be at a renowned university. And, if she could get her face placed on that particular wall, just even once?

The nerves right beneath her skin buzzed at just the thought.

But, right now. She just had to focus on getting there.

With the ACTs and SATs already under her belt (she had managed to take both exams twice this past year despite all of the Archie and Jughead drama going on), she was in full-tilt "college application mode." All of her teachers and Mr. Weatherbee were all more than happy to contribute pages and pages of recommendations for her college application packages. Just seeing the shiny letters, embossed on official linen paper, proclaiming her accomplishments and drive made her face ache with smiling. With most of her application packages already sent off, Betty knew that writing every single one of her teachers a personalized thank you card was the least she could do.

Delighted to know that most of Riverdale High faculty were still haunting the school halls to prepare for the summer off, she was spending today visiting each classroom to hand deliver each of her notes.

Blue eyes lingering on the latest track trophy behind the case glass, Betty took a deep breath.

It was too early for goodbyes. Despite her plans for after graduation, she still had a whole year to look forward to within these walls.

A whole year with Jughead by her side. A whole year with Ronnie and the girls.

A whole year to be honest-to-god friends with the one Archie Andrews.

Being a senior is going to be fun.

"Why am I not surprised to find you here, Betty?"

Shocked out of her thoughts, Betty turned to face Veronica Lodge with the full force of her surprised smile. "Ronnie? What are you doing here?"

Veronica brushed her hair back behind her shoulders and she walked up to her, her heels echoing along the walls with each click. "I mean, it's not like we just spent the last five months within these walls like a mass of prisoners." She came to a stop beside Betty and looked at the Team Spirit Wall. "People said that they had seen you walk this way, so I moseyed my way over here."

"So, you came here lookin' for little ole' me." Betty stated, threading her arm through Veronica's and pulling her along. "Well, you've found me! Keep me company while I deliver these."

Veronica allowed herself to be pulled along, her nose in the air. "Really, Betty. I realized you are middle-class, but even you should know when to employ the services of the U.S. Postal Service. Why on earth are you hand-delivering these?"

Betty chuckled at her friend's genuine bafflement. "They are thank-you cards for the people who wrote me recommendation letters to my schools. It's common courtesy to deliver thank-you notes to show appreciation."

"Well, I know that, dear. But, you must not have heard me when I brought up the U.S. Postal Service."

Betty summoned her best "dumb blond" face. "You mean those poor people who get chased by dogs?"

"Betty."

"Aw, come on, Ronnie. This is a little different from a simple mailed letter. It's a thank-you card. You hand deliver these for the satisfaction of seeing the appreciation upon immediate impartment."

"How very sweet." Betty didn't need to see the rolling of Veronica's eyes, as they walked into Miss Haggly's classroom first.

The teacher was nowhere to be seen, and Betty shrugged off her disappointment before placing her card in Miss Haggly's desk chair. "What do you need, Ronnie?"

Veronica followed Betty out of the classroom and down a row of lockers. "I just wanted to talk. The semester was so crazy with finals and Archie, that we didn't exactly have time to catch up or make any plans for the summer."

Betty thumbed through her stack of envelopes, figuring out which room to visit next. "I thought your family was going to Italy this summer? I remember Archie mentioning a little while back that your mom's side of the family has a villa there."

"Well, yes. There is that, but I meant plans for us. You do remember our trip to Mexico last summer?"

Laughing, Betty spun on her heels and walked backwards as she faced her friend. "Are you kidding me? How in the world could I ever forget an all expenses paid vacation at the beautiful Puerto Vallarta? I think I filled half of my journal pages just from the photos we took on that trip alone!" She slowed down to prevent any possible tripping accidents. "But, you can't be offering another extravagant trip just for the two of us this summer. Your family goes on one huge vacation every summer and your family invited me to Mexico. I thought this year's big family adventure was Italy, with Archie as your plus one?"

Veronica's gaze focused on Betty's face as she came to a stop, forcing the blond to stop as well. "And, that doesn't bother you?"

Now, Betty was confused. "Why would I be?"

Betty came to a stop when Veronica's gaze became even more solid: a look strangely reminiscent of a rich-brunette with a mystery she just had to get to the bottom of.

Moments like these usually led to arguments.

Or bitch fits.

Or passive agreements on Betty's part.

Betty highly doubted that it was going to be the latter.

"Twelve years, Betty." Veronica propped her fists on her hips. "We have been best friends for twelve years. Sleepovers, dances, parties, road trips, shopping trips. Everything. Twelve years of Archie."

"Ronnie. What-"

"Archie misses you. Hell, I miss you!"

"Ronnie!" Betty took a step forward. "What is there to miss? I'm right here! We are still best friends! What does any of this have to do with Archie?"

"It has everything to do with Archie, Betty! You, me and Archie Andrews. It is our status quo, and it's been a pretty good status quo." Taking a deep breath, Veronica recomposed herself, straightening her shoulders. "Now, I know that you have been having problems with Archie lately. Even before this whole Jughead situation happened. But that is-"

Betty fumed. "If I hear the words 'status quo' come out of your face again, I am going to punch you, Veronica Lodge."

"Excuse m-"

"No, Ronnie." Betty could literally feel her blood pressure rise as she glared at her friend. Her best friend. She knew that Veronica had a very different view of how the world worked. People like Veronica or Cheryl. People born believing that they could get anything they wanted regardless of the price. It was just the kind of world they were raised in, and Betty, in her heart of hearts could not fault her for it. But, this?

This was getting into all kinds of ridiculous.

"There is no 'Jughead situation.' There is a real, honest-to-god relationship, going on between Jughead and me. This isn't a phase, or a rebellion, or an attempt to mess with your head. Or even, Archie's head for that matter." Tucking her cards under an arm, Betty reached out and grasped Veronica's fists, cradling them in her own and willing them to relax. Willing Veronica to just relax and see."Ronnie. I-I really like Jughead. I like talking with him, and hanging out with him. I like seeing him try and actually dress up for our dates. I like his smiles and his snark and his laziness."

Betty closed her eyes, imagining the comforting weight of his arm around her shoulder as they walk side-by-side. "I like kissing him. And hugging him. And, just being with him." She refocused on Veronica's dark eyes. "I really, really like Jughead."

Veronica relaxed her fists, pressing her palms against Betty's as she grasped her hands back. "But, Archie."

"Archie will always just be Archie to me, Ronnie." Betty insisted, feeling a little bit of relief at her friend's relaxing stance. "He will always be the first boy I ever crushed on. And, the boy who will never ever pick me over you. He loves you. You. Not me."

Furrowing her brows, Veronica looked down at their hands: her own skin darker and softer in comparison to the pale, slightly calloused skin of her friend. "But, you were happy."

To both young women, it almost sounded like a question.

"I think, I thought that that was happiness. In the few moments when Archie picked me over you. Like, I was being rewarded for my hard work. That maybe, I could beat flawless beauty with my determination."

Veronica gasped out a surprised laugh. "Oh, please, Betty. You are beautiful. In your own way. I mean, not everyone can reach the pinnacle of gorgeousness I was simply born with, but you. You are charming in your own way."

And, as backhanded as that sounded like, Betty could appreciate the compliment for what it was. Because Ronnie never lied to her. And, Betty loved her for that. "Jughead makes me feel beautiful."

The brunette shook her head in minor disbelief. "I cannot believe that we are talking about the same man-child."

Giggling, Betty shrugged.

Veronica watched her friend blush. "Do you love him?"

The question caught Betty off guard. "Um, I really don't know. I mean, maybe? I think . . . I might be getting there?"

Veronica snorted. "Really, Betty?"

"We have been friends for so long." Betty couldn't control the nerves and embarrassment that began to rise under her skin. "I just, I really don't know. Do you think it would sound really pathetic that maybe I've liked Jughead for so long now that it feels like it's been love the whole time?"

That was not something Veronica expected. "Oh wow, Betty. You are really serious."

Betty couldn't look her in the eye, instead focusing on the tightening grip Veronica had on her hands.

Oh wow. Here came the feelings.

"Ronnie. I am so serious about this. And, I know that we've just been together together for a short time, and we are just 17 and there are so many other people to meet in college, but I am so serious about Jughead sometimes that I feel pathetic."

"Pathetic?"

Betty shrugged. "Like, maybe I am more serious about this than Jughead?"

Veronica was able to translate that pretty quickly. She means, that she may love Jughead more than he loves her. Oh my God.Leaning forward, she pulled their joined hands closer to her midsection, and pressed her forehead against Betty's haphazard fringe. "Sweetheart, have you told Jughead?"

Betty squeezed her eyes shut. "No. I can't. It's just, it's too soon for me to even be feeling this way let alone confessing to him." With a small sigh, she dropped her forehead to Veronica's shoulder, sliding her arms around Veronica's waist while the brunette looped her arms around Betty's shoulders. Betty couldn't believe how much simpler it was in her friends' embrace as she continued in a quiet murmur. "And, as far as everyone knows, this could be Jughead's first relationship ever.You and I have been dating boys since the third grade."

Laughing, Veronica tightened her arms around the blond. "Can't say I'm the best person to come to for advice in regards to 'taking it slow.' Usually I tell them to jump, and they say 'how high and would you like me to take my shirt for you, ma'am?'"

Brightness bloomed in Betty's chest as she laughed along, raising her head to hook her chin over Veronica's shoulder. As much as she would love advice and guidance in this new chapter of her love-life, she couldn't help but think that maybe wading these waters alone and learning as she went along, would be the best way to come to terms with herself and her love (Oh my God, she was in love!) for Jughead.

"Thank you, Ronnie." Betty pulled away with a smile. "Having you here is the best thing I could ever ask for."

Veronica rolled her eyes. "Please, Betty. Like you have to ask." She smiled back. "I still don't understand this thing between you and Jughead, and I probably never will, but who am I to stand in the way of your love."

Betty wanted to cry. "I missed you, too."

"Oh good," Veronica threaded her arm through Betty's and returned them to their path down the hallway. "You can buy me a frozen yogurt shake, then, in return for following you on this ridiculous errand."

"Oh! I've been meaning to try that new yogurt parlor downtown! Nancy had been raving about their green-tea and melon combination."

"Now, that sounds horrendous."

"Green tea is good for you skin~" Betty sang.

"Then, I guess I'll be stealing a few bites from you, sweetie."

* * *

 

[Word Count: 2,285]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This did not go right AT ALL. I was aiming for confrontation and strain, and these girls just had to turn everything around and make their friendship stronger. This will definitely be a weird contrast with the Archie/Jughead situation going on [Because I promised angst, and I will deliver, goddammnit].


	30. Peace (is fragile)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Come on, come on  
> Put your hands into the fire  
> Explain, explain  
> As I turn and meet the power  
> This time

Archie was pissed.

Growling as his character died for the 12th time in the last hour, he threw his game control off the side of the bed and fell back against his pillows. So much for this stupid game being the best of all time. Stupid Reggie. See if he ever asks that moron for his opinion ever again.

This television screen fell silent, blinking with a prompt to continue or return to the main menu.

If only that was an option for real life.

He was so sick and tired of this. Of being alone on a Friday night. Of Ronnie not being able to hang out because of some fancy dinner her dad was throwing. Of the stupid girls dragging their stupid boyfriends to some play downtown. Of the stupid guys for just lettingtheir girlfriends drag them away and abandoning him.

Of Jughead for taking away his only other option for a date night.

Of Betty for letting Jughead take her.

Of himself for just standing there while everything flew out of control.

Archie was pissed.

He just wished that he knew just whohe was pissed at.

* * *

This time

Turning white and sense dire

Pull up, pull up

From one extreme to another

* * *

Reclined in a bubbling, soothing hot-tub in the Lodge indoor pool area, Veronica relaxed every muscle in her face, as her mud mask worked it's magic on her skin.

With school finally over for the year, she had so much pampering to catch up on! (This was enough to assuage the guilt she felt earlier when Archie called to hang out, and lied about having other plans for the night.)

Classical music spilled from the build in speakers throughout the room, dancing to the soft hum of her tub.

With her eyes closed, she could easily conjure up the image of Betty: a smiling, blushing, scared, and happy Betty. Veronica had been spending so long being confused and baffled by Betty and Jughead's relationship, she had completely missed how her best friend was flourishing. (This guilt was a little more potent.)

And, she did not lie earlier: she didn't really understand. Jughead wasn't exactly a catch, in her opinion. He was too tall. Too lanky. Too lazy, slobbish, and unkempt to be romance material. But, even she could see how right he looked at Betty's side.

Because the two of them had been friends. And, even as friends, Jughead was always there when Betty needed him.

Veronica sighed. But, did it have to look so weird?

* * *

From the summer to the spring

From the mountain to the air

From Samaritan to sin

And it's waiting on the end

* * *

They couldn't stop touching.

The short table was set up in a tatami mat area where couples were seated across from each other, legs folded beneath them and food easily accessible from any point.

Betty and Jughead sat side-by-side, laughing and moaning as they dipped chunks of bread and vegetables into steaming pots of cheddar, fontina, and gruyere cheeses. To make the ordering process easier, they had signed up for the four course option, which left them less time to deliberate over the complicated menu, and more time to forget about everything else.

Betty gasp and cheered at every new dip or dish brought to their table as the empty dishes were swept away. Her cheeks were sore from all the helpless smiling; taking short breaks when Jughead fed her a square of Andouille sausage dipped in Coq Au Vin. They always stayed connected: his knee against her thigh, her exposed ankles cradled between his socked feet (because the waiter said to make themselves comfortable and she loves to take things to heart).

Jughead was surprised by how easy it was to push his complications with Archie out of his mind as he busied himself with endless combinations of steak, chicken, shrimp, breads, and vegetables: leaving no fondue pot untouched. He laughed at Betty's delight when the waiter brought out the Bananas Foster fondue, the desert lit aflame at their table as it was professionally flambéed. Squares of cheesecake, pound cake, and brownies accompanied strawberries, bananas, and marshmallows, and Jughead had to try them all. And, if he got a little carried away, leaving Betty the opportunity to kiss away the white chocolate fondue at the corner of his lips . . .

Well then, he couldn't be blamed for returning the favor.

* * *

And now I'm alone I'm looking out, I'm looking in

Way down, the lights are dimmer

Now I'm alone I'm looking out, I'm looking in

Way down, the lights are dimmer

 

* * *

 

[Word Count: 700]

Chapter 21-30 Song List

21\. "Fairweather Friend"-Vanessa Carlton

22\. "Mountain and the Sea"-Ingrid Michaelson

23\. "Radioactive"-Marina and the Diamonds

24\. "Sentimental Guy"-Ben Folds

25\. "Lights"-Ellie Goulding

26\. "Losing My Mind"-Daughtry

27\. "Iron"-Within Temptation

28\. "Good Riddance"-Green Day

29\. "Your Song"-Elton John

30\. "Into the Fire"-Thirteen Senses


	31. Poison

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We both lie silently still  
> In the dead of the night  
> Although we both lie close together  
> We feel miles apart sometimes

Summer came and went.

For three months, Jughead and Betty caught up with friends.

When they weren't with friends, they explored recipes and restaurants, lazed about during family cook-outs, and camped out at the beach.

It was a usual vacation. Except when it wasn't. The school year didn't really afford them a lot of hanging-out time, which the couple aimed to rectify with the summer months. Jughead felt very little guilt when he turned down a few of the guy-time meetings at Pop's or the arcade (then again, he rarely felt guilt when it came to getting what he wanted) in favor of a lazy night in with Betty or a drive to the national park.

He noticed a distinct lack of guilt on Betty's end when she canceled or turned down shopping trips over the phone while he followed delicate trails of sweat down her neck with his fingertips as they enjoyed the summer heat.

The two of them grew more comfortable in the concept of "them."

Jughead would never admit to how eternally grateful that Betty was taking things slowly between them. Because this was very new to him, and a very familiar dance for her. He imagined that Betty had reached certain levels of intimacy with past boyfriends, and just the thought of going past kissing and the mildly-heavy petting they were currently dabbling in gave him heart palpitations.

Because he really liked Betty. She was beautiful inside and out. Her skin was soft to the touch. Her kisses tasted like minty sunshine. Her hands on his arms, chest, and neck were stifling yet amazing in a way he couldn't fully grasp.

He spent an obscene amount of time just watching Betty be comfortable around him. He watched as her skin freckled under the warm sun, and her hair earn bright highlights during their nature walks. He listened to her talk about senior year and their early admission packages while she handed him vegetables to dice and chop to her specifications. He basked in her kamikaze hugs (which happened privately and in public).

He noted the looks that followed them sometimes, proud in the fact that this girl was interested in him.

Of all the guys in Riverdale.

Of all the guys in the world.

So, yeah. Being with Betty cut a little into his time with the guys. Not that hanging at the arcade or having burger-eating contests was all that fun with the current tension between him and Archie.

And, there was some serious tension. Three whole months of it.

A huge part of Jughead-the part that ached from the loss of his best friend-that wanted the conflict to just be over. For things to go back to the way it was. He missed to ease of simply walking into the Andrews' household and marching straight for the XBox or fridge. He missed the stupid jokes and dumb antics. He missed the familiar arm thrown over his shoulder in camaraderie.

He missed Archie Andrews.

On those days when Betty had to replenish her estrogen-exposure (or whatever reason she had for needing girl-time), or they had separate obligations, Jughead would reconnect with the guys to catch up on the latest movies or video games. Sometimes there was a new kid to speculate on (or a new girl to rate, which he happily tuned out). But, every single moment, every single burger, every single game at the arcade was overshadowed by the accusatory glare of a scorned red-head with the emotional capacity of a 3-year-old with a temper tantrum.

Archie spoke to everyone. Except him. Archie offered to buy drinks for everyone. Except him. Archie laughed and joked around with everyone. Except him. Everyone existed on Archie's freaking radar.

Except him.

Jughead considered these good days if he managed to restrain himself from punching the daylights out of his former best-friend. If they ever even were best-friends in the first place.

And, the others noticed. Not that Archie was trying to disguise his sudden hatred for Jughead's existence, and not that Jughead didn't obviously turn his attention elsewhere when Archie placed himself in the conversation. Moose threw confused looks between them. Reggie seemed to find everything hilarious. Dilton just seemed to hope that they wouldn't have to resort to choosing sides.

"Is everything o.k., Jughead?" Dilton asked him over the phone one night. "Things have seemed a bit tense between you and Archie lately."

Jughead was only sparing the conversation a small percentage of his attention as he worked his way through a bag of pretzels. "Tense."

"Leaning towards volatile," Dilton continued. "I mean, even when you two aren't in the same area."

"I resent that, Dilton. I have been nothing but cucumber-cool when Archie isn't around."

Dilton sighed. "Come on, Jug. Even when Archie wasn't around, you would reference those inside jokes as often as you'd reach for a basket of fries. Now you barely acknowledge that he exists. It has gotten to the point where it's seriously messing with our group dynamic."

Jughead chomped particularly hard on his next mouth-full. "I'm barely acknowledging his existence? Really?"

"Mutually assured repudiation is not the answer here. That's all I'm saying."

"This whole thing wasn't my idea. Do you think I actively participate in stressful situations?"

There was a pause, before Dilton pointed out, "Well, you haven't before recently."

"What?"

"You are dating Betty now, Jughead. Just doing that is a step out of your comfort zone. And, a little bit out of Archie's as well, if this particular change is the reason for the strain between you two."

Jughead frowned. "You don't think it's ridiculous that one little thing like Betty and me dating is causing Archie to go bat-shit crazy?"

"I could never claim to understand what goes on in Archie's head. Or yours. Or anyone's for that matter, Jughead. All I am trying to reiterate is that maybe a conversation needs to happen between the three of you."

Which was pretty much the most obvious thing Jughead had ever heard. And, Jughead would have pointed out his past attempts to talk to Archie already, but it was becoming painfully obvious that there was no point in talking to someone who simply refused to listen.

He would much rather waste his time, bashing his head against the wall.

And, he really didn't care much for brain injuries.

Jughead took a break from his pretzel murder for a gulp of soda. "I promise you, Dilton, I have done my fair share of talking. Heck, even Betty has done her fair share of talking with Archie. There isn't a lack of trying here."

"Well, have you two tried talking to Archie together?" Dilton inquired.

Which was something that Jughead was very adamant in not doing. In his head, there was only two ways that a talk between the three of them would go. The first, and most possible, would be an argument of epic proportions. Insults thrown back and forth. Maybe a few punches. Betty breaking down in tears. A permanent loss of his appetite. Archie turning a shade of red not yet discovered by scientists or artists or whatever. Just, all kinds of brutal unfavorableness Jughead tended to avoid at all costs.

And, the second possible outcome.

Jughead dropped his empty pretzel bag over the edge of his bed and clutched a pillow to his face, holding down hard before flipping it back over his head. The second possible outcome. Maybe, they talk. And, maybe Archie somehow succeeds in regaining Betty's affections. And, maybe Betty will turn to him with those eyes he can't say "no" to, and ask to be friends again. And, he won't be able to say "no." And, he'll be friend-zoned again with only the memories of Betty's girlfriend-hugs and girlfriend-kisses and girlfriend-touches and girlfriend-meals.

And, everything would go back to the way it would before.

That just couldn't happen. It would not happen.

Jughead was sure of his feelings for Betty. He knew that he meant every hug and kiss and smile.

And, while everything he has done with Betty has felt real and amazing to him, he couldn't with 100% certainty know that Betty felt the same way. Because, if Betty still even had 1% of her love for Archie . . . then there would be that small chance that she would leave him.

Always for Archie.

Jughead did not hate Archie right now. He was angry and frustrated with Archie, but he did not hate him.

If Betty left him for the red-head? Jughead could see himself actually hating Archie with every fiber of his being.

Which was stupid and irrational and just amazingly teen-agery of him. But, he could do it.

And, Jughead wanted to avoid that at all costs.

"Jughead?" Dilton's voice brought him back. "Are you still there?"

Sighing, Jughead threw his free arm over his eyes. "Look, Dilton. I know you mean well, but we aren't another one of your social experiments. We'll figure this mess out ourselves."

Dilton seemed to sense the exhaustion in his friend's voice and wisely dropped the subject. His pause only lasted for a few seconds. "You know I just care about you guys, right?"

"I know, man. Just, thanks."

The teen nerd cleared his throat. "I'm about to meet with Cheryl online for a bit of warmongering. Want to join us?"

Jughead managed a chuckle. "Nah, man. I'll sit out this one. Go have fun with your harpy."

"Jug."

"Good bye," he grinned.

"See ya."

Dropping his cell phone beside him, Jughead rubbed at his ear and took a deep breath. Propping himself back up on his elbows, he pushed his torso up so that he could comfortably lean against his headboard and look at the open envelope on his lap.

Today, he had made it back home before the rest of his family, and brought in the mail. When he had seen the thick envelope with his name and address embossed on the front, he had literally dropped everything else and sprinted to his room: slamming the door, falling to his bed and ripping the edge just enough to get to the sheets within.

The sudden phone call from Dilton was the only reason why he hadn't called Betty right away to see if she had received anything in the mail.

But, now that the high and excitement and shock and fear had run its course, Jughead found himself hesitant on calling his girlfriend immediately.

The Massachusetts Institute of Technology.

Jughead had been accepted for early admissions to his first college of choice.

The teen wanted to smother himself with a pillow.

Why the hell couldn't he remember which colleges Betty applied to?

* * *

  
[Word Count: 1,787]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realize that college applications and acceptance letters do not work out this way. Usually you apply during your senior year (and get acceptance letters near the end of the senior year or even that summer after). However, I am exercising a bit of creative license here. If it bothers you, I am sorry . . . but not enough to go back and change it. *drops mic


	32. Pretty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Put your red coat on  
> and walk with a light in the woods  
> if it gets dark don't get scared  
> there's so much waiting for you  
> Cover up your tears and don't show them  
> cause you'll know much better than them

Three weeks into their last year of high school, Betty could not resist the call of the lasting summer heat, and convinced Jughead to eat out on the campus grounds with her for lunch. Since food was involved with her request, she didn't expect much complaint.

Her boyfriend simply shrugged, laced their fingers together and let her pull him through the crowded hallways.

Betty was always conscious of the stares they still received on school grounds. Not that she really blamed them. Students and faculty alike have always been accustomed to Jughead slouching along the hallways or in desk chairs: hands in pockets, food in mouth. Not a care in the world.

And, before, she was always linked with Veronica or Archie, never mind her drama of the day.

If the two of them were to walk together in the hallways last Fall, it was always with a few inches of space between them. Comfortable. Friendly.

Holding hands with Jughead in public was a different kind of comfortable she never wanted to get used to. There was nothing like the novelty of being with someone who actually wanted to be with her and only her. And, to have people actually see Jughead willing to spend time with her . . . it was enough to keep her flying on cloud nine for a while.

Their forty-five minutes of lunch was spent under the warm sun light: the soft grass under them, and their combined lunches spread out for the taking. Legs always touching, the two of them were able to enjoy the calmness of the moment. Interruptions came sporadically with waved "hellos" or "how are you guys doin's?" from passing friends. Betty finished eating before Jughead and was more than happy to lay in the grass with her head in Jughead's lap: the reading for her next literature class in her hands.

Jughead seemed very comfortable eating despite her invasion of his personal space, and simply shared her contented silence.

Betty never had comfortable silences with Archie.

It was enough to make her smother a giggle within the pages of her book.

"You want any of this pound cake, Sunshine?" Jughead asked her.

"All yours, Juggie."

Once he finished, he closed up the Tupperware containers he could reach without disrupting Betty's perch before leaning back on his arms and sighing in satisfaction. A few minutes before the bell could bring an end to lunch time, his fingers would card her fringe back, a jazzy beat vibrating in his chest as he hummed a tune only he could hear.

Forty-five minutes was not long enough for a break from the real world. Especially in the middle of the day.

Taking a deep breath of the last of Summer, Betty closed her eyes. Just a few months longer, and Jughead was going to Massachusetts. She could still remember the look of utter disbelief and shock and excitement on Juggie's face when she showed up at her doorstep with his wrinkled acceptance letter in hand. Betty always knew that her boyfriend was absolutely brilliant. It was no secret that he was able to fly through every one of his classes without a single glance at a textbook. He was a man comfortable with his own inner-workings and common-sense.

It didn't surprise her in the least that he would start receiving his acceptance letters first.

She was so proud of him.

(And, he enjoyed every bit of her pride after she had pinned him to her front door for a small celebration of their own.)

However, acceptance letters meant that adulthood was approaching fast. Betty looked forward to finally making her way in the world as a woman on a mission, but she would miss the careless joy and freedom of being a simple teenager with a boy who only wanted to be fed.

Betty was going to enjoy every single one of these moments for as long as he could.

Unfortunately, she couldn't plan on taking advantage of more time after school today. Veronica was having a professional masseuse from Switzerland visit for the week, and had invited Betty for an afternoon of pampering. The masseuse was really there for her parents, but she was able to beg for a few hours. When Veronica had gone on and on the night before about how gorgeous the man was, Betty figured she was due for a bit of pampering herself and accepted the invite.

After, all what middle-class girl got the chance for a real hot-stone massage by a God from Switzerland? Plus, it gave her more time to catch up with Ronnie, which was actually becoming one of the best parts of her life, ever since Veronica essentially "gave her blessing" on Betty's relationship with Jughead.

(Much to Jughead's non-amusement.)

The rest of the school day went by in an uneventful rush of busy hours, and after a quick goodbye peck on Jughead's cheek, Betty found herself relaxing in the luxurious leather seat of Veronica's Jaguar. The brunette was already talking a mile a minute as she went on about some fashion faux pas a foreign exchange student in her math class had the misfortune to commit in public. Betty was more than happy to listen to her best friend discuss the correct usage of colors, fabrics, and "textures, Goddamnit. Was the poor dear raised by a pack of uncultured wolves?!"

As long as the sharp-tongued Lodge-heir wasn't aiming her ire at her, Betty was fully within her rights to enjoy Veronica's fire.

"I don't remember any foreign exchange students in my classes this semester," Betty noted. "Where is she from?"

"Norway. Which, actually, makes her fashion choices even more of an abomination!" Veronica parked the sleek car in the garage at an alarming speed and pulled herself out of the vehicle with practiced grace, her nose in the air. "That country has brought the fashion world the likes of Mardou & Dean, Leila Hafzi, Fam Irvoll, and Eva Emanuelsen!"

Despite knowing Veronica for a lifetime, it still surprised Betty how easily Veronica could just roll thick accents and poetically complicated names off the tongue without a second thought. The teens at school didn't see Veronica as anything more than just a pretty face, with money, style, and a shrewd tongue. But, Betty was always given these sharp reminders that, Veronica was being groomed into a respectable and brilliant dignitary of the Lodge name and label.

She wore the responsibility like a queen.

Veronica looped her arm through Betty's once the blond stepped out of the car and began to drag her into the Lodge mansion. "But, that is a headache that is behind us now. You and I have a marvelous date with Christoph and his divine hands."

Betty laughed. "Christoph? Jeeze, Ronnie, where in the world do you find these guys with such romance-novel-esque names?"

"It is a Lodge family gift. What can I say?"

The pair said their greetings to Veronica's parents as they passed the living room and made their way into the custom built spa-prep room installed near the indoor pool. Betty didn't take advantage of the spa or the pool very often, but she was always welcome to use the facilities, and had her own locker, robe, and slippers available at any time. They quickly changed into their robes, Betty taking the time to bask in the buttery-softness of the terrycloth. "Oh, wow. Please remind me to thank Smithers for doing this. He still hasn't told me what kind of fabric softener he uses on these things."

"Pulease. That man will not tell you, just drop it!"

Betty had been trying for years to get the secret out of the elusive butler, and it was obviously an impossible mission she would never succeed in. Plus: she was pretty sure that the fabric softener was an original blend that she would never be able to find in any supermarket.

Just her luck.

"As interesting as fabric softener is, we have other things to discuss!" Veronica adjusted the collar of her own terry cloth robe and lead Betty into the indoor pool area.

Thick shades had been pulled over the glass walls leading out into the estate, covering the entire room in a mock of night time. In the far corner where Veronica was leading her, Betty could see two massaging stations set up, the entire area dotted with candles at varying heights. Rajasthani music hummed out of hidden speakers and pulled them closer. If Betty didn't know any better, she would think that this was a bad case of literal sleep walking.

A man, clad only in shorts so tight they looked ridiculously uncomfortable, stood between the two massaging stations. The candlelight highlighted the blonde in his hair as he crinkled his blue eyes in the cheesiest smile Betty had ever seen. This guy was supposed to be "drop-dead gorgeous?" She guessed that Christoph could be cute in a weird naive way. The sculpt of muscles along his midsection, chest, and arms wasn't bad to look at, but it wasn't exactly lust-worthy.

Betty knew exactly what lit her fire, and she was abandoning that line of thinking immediately.

With his thick accent and ever present smile, Christoph motioned either of them to take a seat at whichever station they pleased. One was a reclining leather chair, flanked by small tables that held creams, mud masks, and light perfumes. The other was a massage bed, with a collection of massage oils prepped for the first session.

Veronica slid herself into the reclined chair. "I think I'll start with my mud mask first. Lord knows that my fair skin need a lot more pampering and prep time. Betty dear, you'll get the first back rub."

Betty spotted a bowl of fruits and grabbed an apple before plopping herself on the edge of the table. "Okie-dokie."

Settling herself in her chair, Veronica made a show of adjusting herself and widening the collar of her robe to show the light swell of her breasts without seeming too slutty. She spared Christoph an aloof smile before closing her eyes and leaning back. "Now, do be a doll and start me off on the honey and papaya enzyme mask."

"Of course, Lady Veronica."

His eagerness to please the heiress was pathetically endearing, and Betty hid her smile behind a bite into her apple. Pulling her legs up, she crossed them and propped her free elbow on her knee to watch the process.

While Christoph used a warm towel to wipe Veronica's face clean, the brunette refocused the conversation to Betty. "All right, chicky. How have things been between you and Jughead lately? I saw that rather adorable picnic at lunch today, and I can assume things are rather smooth in paradise?"

Betty laughed, wiping a bit of the excess apple's juice from the corner of her mouth. "Jughead and I are fine! We spent a lot of time together over the summer and still try to see each other after school a few times a week, and he doesn't seem to be getting bored of the increased exposure of Cooper charm."

"Oh, please. As if he would get bored. I must admit, that even from my perspective, the poor boy is completely smitten with you." She paused as Christoph began massaging a light mixture over her skin. "Which, I have to admit, is a very odd look for our Jughead."

Betty shrugged. "I know. I thought the whole 'smitten Juggy' thing was weird too when we first started dating. But, it's really great. Things are going slow, but I think that's the best way to take things right now."

And, honestly. Slow was the understatement of the freaking century.

After dropping the apple core into the nearby trash can, Betty pulled her knees up and wrapped her arms around her folded legs.

Veronica did not miss the note of frustration in her statement. "Slow, eh? And, by slow . . . you mean?"

Betty tried not to blush. "Ronnie . . ."

"What?" Veronica glanced at her. "We are girlfriends, Betty. We tell each other things. Besides, I know for a fact that you have been very close lipped about your relationship with Jughead with everyone. You must be bursting with the need to share something."

Which was very true, and the fact that Veronica could see that despite Betty's insistence at hiding the urge to talk and share everything, just made Ronnie the best best friend ever. She tightened her arms around her legs and dropped her forehead on her knees. "Oh God, where do I even start?"

Veronica's grin was so wide, Christoph had to add more mixture to her face. "How about starting with your obvious sexual frustration?"

Christoph looked over his shoulder to smile at Betty, and she wanted to sink into the ground in embarrassment. "Geeze, Ronnie. Could make me sound even more like a sexual predator?!"

"Betty. We are beautiful women. We have needs. You and I both know that we have gone much further than simple hand holding or an asinine game of footsie during a dinner date with Archie."

"Wha-wait, no!" Betty dropped her knees, quick to defend her relationship. "We have done more than just hold hands! We kiss! And, go on really romantic dates! And, we have had some pretty hot make-outs!"

"How many?"

Betty stopped. "What?"

"How many 'hot make outs' have you had with our prudish Jughead?" Veronica asked point blank, her fingers making the implied quotes.

Three. Betty knew exactly how many times she has felt Jughead just pin her against something and really kiss her. All with the touching and the possibility of skin and the need for just more. Betty didn't want to seem needy. She was really happy. Having Jughead as her boyfriend made her feel more confident in her own romantic abilities and sense of self. There was no doubt that she wasn't good enough, or that either of them were just "putting up" with the other. The relationship was fulfilling emotionally and spiritually.

And those three make outs? They were really hott. Was it so horrible that Betty wanted a little more of that? And, maybe a little less clothes?

Betty groaned. "God, I am a pervert."

Veronica snorted. "Hardly. Though I don't see what the problem is. We have already established that Jughead is capital 'L' in love with you. Why don't you just jump him?"

A mental image of Jughead staring at her like she had lost her mind made Betty shake her head. "Ronnie. I can't just jump Jughead. This is his first lasting relationship he has ever been in. He is completely new to the physical and emotional intimacies of a relationship and I can't just ask him to speed things up because I'm ready and he isn't." She frowned. "And, Jughead doesn't love me. We like each other, and we've only been dating for a few months."

Christoph motioned Betty to lay on her front, and she moved to the correct position, glad for the excuse not to make eye contact with Veronica's blatant disbelief.

Veronica crossed her arms. "Ok. How long did it take you to come up with that deep excuse for Jughead's delicate emotional wellbeing?"

"It's not an excuse," Betty grumbled, folding her arms under her chin and staring at a few of the candles flickering by Veronica's seat. "I just . . . I can feel it. There will be times when we are just hanging out with each other, and he's trying to hide his discomfort. I mean, I know that he likes having me around. But, there is only so much he can be comfortable with before he has to actively force himself to endure it." She peeked at Veronica. "Last month, Juggie and I were at the beach, and I offered to put suntan lotion on his back. I . . . I mean, he said ok, but I started taking shirt off without even thinking about asking him, and he kind of froze up for a second before saying he got it 'but thanks.'"

Feeling Christoph begin to knead at the muscles along her calves and up, Betty shrugged and wished she could actually enjoy the treatment. "And, it's just kind of been small things like that. Jughead hasn't outright told me that I was making him uncomfortable. I've just been paying attention." She managed to aim a smile at her best friend. "Isn't that what you're supposed to do with the person you're dating? Notice the little things?"

Veronica closed her eyes to consider what she had said, but the ill-concealed pity was a little hard for Betty to stomach, so she refocused on a cluster of candles.

The two of them fell silent as the music swirled the candles around them and Christoph finished massaging the muscles in both of Betty's legs. After rubbing the excess massage oil off his hands, he returned to Veronica's side to wipe the mixture off of her face. Patting the underside of her chin with the back of her hand, Veronica instructed the masseuse to put together some kind of citrus and rosemary mask, before turning on her side and propping herself up with an arm along the body of the chair, and her head propped on her hand.

"So, have you talked to Jughead about this?"

Betty blinked back some of the haze that had blanketed her brain. "What?"

"Look, you are going on and on about how healthy relationships are about being aware of what your significant other is feeling, but you are seriously missing the whole two-way street bit."

Betty wanted to know exactly how in the world she was getting the 'relationships are a two-way street' lecture from Veronica Lodge: SELF-CENTERED GIRLFRIEND EXTRAORDINAIRE.

Veronica continued, completely unaware of Betty's inner monologue. "I mean, look at me? I know for a fact that if I am happy, and beautiful, and pampered, it makes the boys that much happier to be in my presence! And I like being happy, and beautiful, and pampered, so it's a very smooth two-way street! You, on the other hand, seem to be so focused on keeping Jughead comfortable in this relationship that you are completely disregarding your own needs."

Ronnie smiled at her own brilliant insight. "Now tell me, how is Jughead supposed to be happy if you aren't?"

"Veronica, I am happy."

"No. You are just settling. For some God forsaken reason, you have this thing for Jughead, and that's fine. But, just because you are smitten for Jughead doesn't mean that you should be the only person to make the sacrifices in this!"

Betty blinked back the sudden tears in her eyes. "Ronnie . . . who are you, and what have you done with my best friend?"

Veronica snorted, warmth filling her eyes as she smiled and reached out to cup her hand around Betty's elbow. "You know I've always had your best intentions at heart, Betty. You have stuck with me longer than anyone. Even that insufferable Archie Andrews. And, I know I didn't show it when you and I were vying for Archie's affections, but I hate seeing you cry or be hurt when there is something I can do about it." She sat back with a grin. "Besides, now that we can be bffs without the added tension of romantic competition, I can be as supportive as sickeningly possible! You have yet to see my best-friend prowess!"

Christoph returned with a bowl of scented mud mask. "I would not mind assisting with the sexual tension? I hear I am very good at relieving that stress as well?"

"Christoph. Shut up and mask me."

Betty couldn't breathe through her laughter.

* * *

 

 

[Word Count: 3,298]


	33. Rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I wish I had a river so long,  
> I would teach my feet to fly.  
> Oh, I wish I had a river I could skate away on.  
> I made my baby cry.

Betty had done the absolute impossible.

A lifetime of hard work and studying and big dreaming had finally paid off.

And, when they had sent out their application packages, the two of them had mutually agreed that they would apply to all of their desired colleges regardless of location. Jughead knew that there were bigger and better things out there for Betty Cooper, and he didn't think it was ridiculous for her to submit applications to places as far as New York or L.A. or the United Kingdom. They had even joked a little bit about castles, and British tea and funny dish names like "Toad-in-the-hole."

Betty had the SAT scores. She had quite a few Advanced Placement Tests under her belt (Dilton was the same: Jughead really couldn't be bothered to take more than what his mother forced him to take).

Earlier in the day, Jughead woke up from his weekend-mid-morning-nap to an excited and sobbing Betty in his arms, where she threw herself after crashing up to his room.

The University of Oxford wanted Betty. And, offered her a partial scholarship with free room and board.

Which was absolutely amazing. And called for a celebratory dinner with the Copper family at the best Italian restaurant in town. It called for lots of hand holding, and plans for a celebration just between the two of them.

It also called for a night of lying in bed, staring at the ceiling at 2:00 a.m. while thick darkness crowded his body and crawled into his ears, mouth, eyes, and nose.

If Betty accepted the invitation (and she would, God knew that she would, because who wouldn't want to spend four years as an international student at the University of Oxford?), then Betty would officially live a grand total of 8 hours and 32 minutes away from him.

512 minutes away from him.

30,720 seconds away from him.

That was 7 hours and 15 minutes by plane and an additional 1 hour and 17 minutes by bus.

The Atlantic Ocean would be between them.

THE ATLANTIC OCEAN.

Jughead was a teenager. And, this was his first relationship with an actual girl who didn't drive him to insanity. He figured he was allowed to have a few minutes to be aggressively depressed at the impending challenge to said relationship. (Because after the celebratory dinner, he had looked up the statistics for the success of long-distance relationships, and that 40% has been burned into his retinas.)

Long-distance relationships last for an average of 4.5 months, and for one dark, dark moment, Jughead wondered if it was even worth it to try for that much longer.

Because, even if Jughead couldn't really admit it to himself out loud, or tell Betty, he loved that blond ray of sunshine. He loved her.

Jughead Jones was capital "L" in love with Betty Cooper.

He didn't couldn't consider for even a moment, to ask Betty to stay for him. She deserved, more than anyone to be happy. And, as far as Jughead could tell, Oxford, and the U.K., and British accents made Betty really happy.

Jughead glanced at the obviously blissed out blond enjoying her milkshake in the booth across from him. They had just finished catching an afternoon flick at the movie house downtown, and Betty was thoughtlessly humming along with some pop-tune playing on the nearby jukebox. One of his sneakered feet was comfortably wedged between her two ballet-flats, ankles snug.

They had just made their order and sat together to enjoy a moment of shared, comfortable silence.

Or . . . as comfortable as it could be with his brain going off the fritz.

Jughead slid his hands across the cool surface of the table and took one of Betty's hands in his own, cradling her thumb against his, and curling his fingers securely around the heel of her palm.

Blue eyes slid lazily open for a moment, face brightening with a contented smile before taking another long pull of her shake. Her eyes slid back closed, seemingly content to let things be.

Closing his own eyes, Jughead felt overwhelmed. The thick drizzle that followed them across town to Pop's had transformed into cold rain, pattering against the diner's windows and roof. The jukebox meshed unpleasantly with the murmur of the other patrons, and the clash of metal against the grill. Involuntarily, his fingers tightened just a smidge around Betty's, dragging her hand over a few inches so that it rested closer to his side of the table. Her hums continued on without a hitch, obviously unbothered by the move.

He felt . . . on edge. Bothered. Trapped.

Irritated.

He felt incredibly irritated and as a whole, he felt stupidly irrational.

This should be perfect. This quiet moment after celebrating their academic successes and bright futures.

Things were supposed to feel right.

And Jughead didn't know what to do, how to explain this buzzing under his skin. The acid taste of anger and fear and . . . and just, general unhappiness bubbled in the base of his chest, and he could not for the life of him understand why.

Why?

Betty's thumb began to rub small, mindless circles on his skin, disrupting his irritation before intensifying it.

He squeezed her hand tighter, making her stop.

And Jughead didn't realize that he was trying to catch her attention until he got it, stilling as blue eyes popped open, slowly tracking between their hands and his face. The straw fell from her lips, the skin a deep maroon from the cold dairy. "You all right, Juggie?"

"I . . ." Jughead swallowed painfully as he dropped his eyes from her face, looked away from the curiosity and concern, to stare down at her trapped fingers. "I."

He could hear Betty shift in the booth. ". . . You?" She sounded confused.

The irritation simmered into cold exhaustion, and that in itself made Jughead choke on a scoff. All of this change, his (internal) swing in moods and all of the second-guessing, and thinking about his relationship with Betty, and his whatever with Archie, it was exhausting. And he needed . . . something.

He needed something.

"Jughead," Betty's fingers tightened around his, their combined hands feeling like a singular fist, folding and curling around itself. The pressure of their combined grip felt solid, and oddly enough, that was what loosened the tension in Jughead's body. "What is it? Are you-"

"It's just . . ." Jughead blinked, his eyebrows furrowing in what probably looked like a constipated conglomeration of anger and confusion. "It's just a lot. This, this is a lot."

Betty's ice widened, freezing for an instant, before her face blanked out, and in any other moment, Jughead would maybe panic a bit. But he felt weirdly disconnected from himself and the booth they sat in.

"Okay . . ." She focused intently on his face and let the silence drag on just a little too long. "Are we a lot?"

The way Betty said "a lot" made it sound like some kind of venereal disease.

And that was probably the stupidest question to ever exist in the history of everything. Because they were. It amazed Jughead everyday just how this relationship between them contained so much.

But . . . it was also-

"What are we doing, Betty?" He stumbled onward.

"We are apparently gearing up for a fight," Betty responded after another pause. "Which . . ." she looked down at their combined fist of tension. "I think may have been something we needed to do for a while?"

Jughead blinked. "What."

The giggle that punched out of Betty's chest was a touch hysterical, and more than anything, that rubbed Jughead's emotions raw. In moments, he watched as Betty transformed before his eyes, the days of joy and pure happiness just melting off of her as she curled just a little bit into herself.

Confusion, conflict, worry, and just a little bit of fear weighing her down into her seat.

A mirror image of himself. Jughead was seconds away from launching himself at her, gripped by the need to pull her into himself in anyway possible, which was just as terrifying as everything else bouncing around in his brain.

"Just, talk." Betty's voice stilled him. "We . . . we've been spending months talking about everything. Safe things, happy things, family things, school things. But-"

Betty looked like she was choking, uncurling herself and fighting against the weight that similarly held him down, and looked at him with tears swimming along the rims of her eyes. "What about the not-happy things?"

Oh God.

God.

Oh, thank God.

Jughead wouldn't be able to explain to anyone, in any rational way, why Betty's question brought him so much relief.

Maybe it made this perfect relationship just a little more real? Maybe Betty was just that intuitive and could clearly read his insecurities about Archie on his face. Maybe she was going to reassure him that she wasn't leaving him for his best friend. Maybe she would give him the secret to fixing this weird rift between all three of them?

But . . .

Looking at the line of tension across Betty's shoulders, Jughead was struck with the realization that it wouldn't be that easy.

(What about the not-happy things?)

The blonde barely trembling before him, hand held tightly in his . . . she wasn't happy.

Jughead Jones, widely assumed genius of their senior class had missed something. What had he missed?

Was, was he the cause of the tears Betty was fighting?

They needed to talk, or fight, or something. There needed to be some kind of soul-baring, uncomfortable conversation, but first-

Jughead released Betty's hands, and he tried his best to ignore the abject heartbreak that cracked across her expression, as he moved out of his seat, and threw himself into Betty's side of the booth.

He was barely aware of his elbow cracking against something cold, heavy glass clattering against the tabletop, as he pressed himself into Betty's space, arms threading around her and pulling her in while he pressed the both of them into the farthest corner of the booth.

Thin, trembling arms wrapped tentatively back around him, fists tightening in the back of his hoody, pulling and pushing like she wanted to both drag him close and push him away.

Jughead understood the feeling.

"J-Jughead-"

"I love you," he breathed into the side of her neck, hiding in the warmth of her skin and the sweet softness of her hair.

Betty froze in his arms.

And it was so much easier to talk, to say anything, when he wasn't looking into her face. "I love you, and it terrifies the shit out of me. I don't know what to do with myself. I don't know what to do with you. I don't know what to do with Archie. I don't know how to do this."

The fists at his back settled on either side of his spine.

"I . . ." Jughead blanked out for a moment, randomly remembering that they were in a brightly lit restaurant and this wasn't exactly the place to have such an important conversation, and anyone could interrupt them and carelessly shatter this moment-

One of Betty's hands slid up his back, grasping at the hood of his sweater and pulling it up, up, and over his head, blocking the light and the air, and . . .

His breathless, quiet laughter pressed him further into Betty.

What the hell did he do to deserve . . .

Her cheek pressed insistently against his forehead. "Keep . . . keep going, Juggie."

Jughead took a deep breath, fortified by Betty's warmth. "I love you, and I don't know what I'm doing, but I want to try, Betty. I want to try. Because I want you to be happy and, and if Archie and Oxford or something else makes you happy, then I want-"

"Wait-" Betty's hands slid around to his chest to push him away, but his arms just locked tighter around her.

"I'm not don-"

A pointy finger stabbed him in the ribs, and Jughead flinched, his forehead bumping into Betty's ear. "Ouch, woma-"

"You make me happy, you moron!" Betty hissed, poking him again and making him lean just a little further back so that she could clearly glare at the general direction of his face. "What are you doing bringing up-"

"I'm trying to talk, woman."

"Then you better start making some sense!" Betty growled back, her cheeks flushed with anger.

Jughead frowned, baffled by her obvious indignation, like he was the biggest moron to ever exist . . . which . . . what? "What did I do wrong?! You told me to keep going!"

Her glare just intensified, and Jughead would be worried if it weren't for the fact that her fists stayed solid against his back. He had a fleeting thought that maybe something really was wrong with him since he wasn't too worried for his life right now.

Pulling away from Betty was not an option.

"Jughead Jones. Of all the things in the whole damn world to be worried about, you bring up Archie? I mean-" Betty slid one hand around to grip at his sweater, right underneath his neckline. "Haven't you been paying attention at all for the past few months?"

Jughead stared, his chest constricting painfully.

"You-, I just," Betty shut her eyes, physically shaking herself as if trying to get her thoughts straight, before looking back up at him, clearly desperate with a need to make him understand. "I can't get enough, Juggie."

His fingers felt slack on Betty's shoulders, barely aware of her pressed along the long length of his thigh.

"Archie . . . Archie is just a friend. I tried with him, Juggie. I mean, you know that. I tried so hard to make something work with him, but in the end, he will always love Ronnie, and I have come to terms with that. It's fine. I'm fine. But, with you, I don't really have to try." Blue eyes connected with his for a moment before she leaned forward, touching her forehead to his collar. "Being with you, it's so easy. I don't have to try at all, and that, that makes me so happy. That, that I can hold your hand and tell people that you are my boyfriend, and just, just know that you feel the same way, too. That you aren't thinking about seeing someone else or comparing me to another girl . . ."

At that, she stilled in his arms before pulling back, "I mean . . . right?"

Jughead sighed, and he could practically feel the tension and worry melt right out of him. Because, like, seriously. Who would have pinned him as the worry-wart, over-thinker in any relationship? Jughead Jones did not panic, or worry, or spent extra energy on superfluous relationships or change.

But, apparently, the new Jughead Jones did. At least, when it came to a certain blonde.

A blonde who was quite obviously the bravest person in the history of all relationships, and if Jughead had to resign himself to falling in love and trying something out of his comfort zone and being a complete moron, then he was beyond fortunate that he was going through this with Betty Cooper.

Like a marionette let loose from its strings, Jughead dropped forward, pressing a surprised Betty into the corner. He huffed a smile into her neck, reveling in the softness of her skin against his lips. "Right. One-thousand times right."

"J-Jughead-"

"I love you," he murmured. "And it's causing me to suffer lapses in brain activity."

Betty laughed, real and warm. "Well, sorry to break it to you, hun. But boys have a tendency to do dumb things when they are in relationships. You aren't immune."

"Shit," Jughead laughed, curling further into Betty, and this was a ridiculous amount of touching in public. Way above his comfort threshold.

But Betty felt amazing pinned between him and the wall, and the squeaky leather of the booth, and it was the best kind of perfect that he was reluctant to give up.

So he didn't.

Betty shifted just a little, letting Jughead settle a little deeper against her.

"And, Oxford."

Ugh, one problem at a time, Jughead thought. He was exhausted and needed food stat.

"It may surprise you to know, but we do currently live in a world where text messages, video calls, and the occasional letter can be utilized to keep people connected across long distance."

"Oh my God, shut up."

Betty laughed, and it engulfed her entire body, limbs seizing with each gasp of air and literally transmitting joy and relief right into him. "I know it's something to think about later, but, but I want you to know that we'll be good. We'll be fine."

Good. Fine.

Together.

Simple words that banished the plague of dark thoughts underlying the last few weeks.

A step in the right direction, and Jughead decided that Betty probably deserved another milkshake and they needed to order the entire display of baked goods Pop's had in stock.

But, first-

"Now, you, Sunshine."

"Hmm?" Betty sounded like she was considering a nap, which wasn't a half-bad idea. Maybe that could do that after their dinner.

"What's been worrying you? Now, that we've clearly exposed my worries as dumb-male insanity, how about you?"

And, again, Betty's body stilled. "Um . . ."

"Seriously," he pulled back just a little, keeping one hand cupped around the side of her neck, and the other around her shoulder. "Probably can't be worse than mine." Jughead hoped that it was something dumb, like, she thought she was getting too fat with the lack of running, or she wanted to plan something extravagant for their senior prom, which whatever. She wasn't fat, and as much as he hated dances, he would go to all of them if she wanted them to. He wanted to go ahead and make that clear so that he could make fun of her, eat a truckload of emotional-recovery food, and nap in Betty's fantastic bed.

"What . . ?"

Jughead stilled at the familiar voice, pulled from his thoughts as he turned to find Archie standing by their table, dark eyes wide as he took in their booth. Which . . . Jughead thought about how interesting they must look with him crowding his girlfriend (currently gaping like a fish) into a booth, practically on top of her, with a - yup - completely up-ended glass of strawberry milkshake covering the table and dripping to the floor.

He decided to take it in stride. "Hey, Arch. What brings you around these parts?"

Then, of course, their waitress made her appearance, blinking at the table with a tray of food balanced on one hand and shoulder. "Oh, um, food is ready, but I can get that cleaned up real quick?"

"That would be swell," Jughead smiled at her, reaching out to pluck the tray of food before she could run off. "I'll hang on to this while you grab a rag."

". . . right."

Betty had taken the opportunity to quickly straighten herself out as soon as Jughead pulled away to grab the tray of food. Her cheeks were warmed to a peachy-red glow, while she ran her fingers through her hair and re-adjusted her clothes.

Jughead couldn't help but grin at her. Betty glared in response before throwing Archie a smile.

Who was still just standing there and staring like they were a pair of lemurs at the zoo.

"H-hey, Archie! I, we, I haven't seen you around much! How have you been?"

Archie seemed to snap out of whatever headspace he was in, and moved as the waitress shoved him aside to mop up the spilled milkshake.

"Oh, and we'll get another milkshake, if you don't mind," Jughead chimed in.

"Uh, good. I'm good." Archie seemed to be having a hard time rebooting, and it was such a familiar look-shit, he missed that look-that Jughead couldn't help but take pity on him.

"You are more than welcome to join us, bud," he invited, acting like he would have before the passive-aggressive falling out.

Archie stared at him like he couldn't recognize his best friend of over 12 years. Which was fair.

Jughead felt new.

Confident.

Hopeful.

Betty's thigh was a warm, solid line against his as she reached over to grab her plate off the tray, pulling two napkins out of the dispenser: one for him, and one for her. "Yeah, Archie. Sit down, we can catch up!"

It took a long moment, but Archie slid into the seat across from them.

Jughead smiled.

 

* * *

 

[Word Count: 3477 words]


	34. Regret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lie awake, two faced  
> But in my heart I understand  
> I made my move and it was all about you  
> Now I feel so far removed

Betty had imagined this.

Every decision she made at every moment of the day was usually examined from infinite angles. What were the pros? What were the cons? Did one outweigh the other? How would others perceive one action over another? How would others perceive her?

How would her friends and family look at her if she did this one thing?

In the best sense, this was just a severe case of obsessive-compulsive disorder, worsened by her perfectionist nature. There was a stress, a burden with being the "beloved girl next door" who everyone relied on to be authentically good. It was distressing, living up to the highest expectations.

But at the same time, Betty knew that she needed those expectations to be true. The con's of killing oneself to be the best were greatly outweighed by the sheer accomplishment and pride of actually being the good, reliable, Betty Cooper people wanted her to be.

Staying home on weekend nights to get that extra bit of studying done.

Cutting back on the lunch hour to increase her running time by 1/10ths of a second.

Biting her tongue when she was irritated by something so that her friends could continue to enjoy whatever it was that made them happy.

Every action and inaction reflected on her as a person, and it all needed to be perfectly considered.

It was hard to think in this particular situation.

Pinned between the cold stucco wall of the diner and the searing warmth of Jughead's body, boy sweat mingled with hot grease and day-old pancake batter. It was hard to think beyond breathing in and out, and the thundering of Jughead's heart against her own as he forced his insecurities into the air between them.

And Betty could understand his worries about distance. College wasn't for months but there was some thing to say about knowing that they would inevitably be dealing with hundreds of miles.

And just a little bit, she could understand his insecurities about Archie. Because while it has been months, it still felt new, precious, and terrifyingly fragile.

But what really bugged her was what Jughead wasn't saying.

The tension laced in his muscles and threatened to choke him were Jughead's own insecurities. Because while she could comprehend distance. Comprehend Archie. What she couldn't comprehend was the root problem: Jughead's obvious insecurities about his place in her life.

That he saw himself as some kind of phase that Betty would inevitably get over and let something like distance and Archie's constant presence in both of their lives sway her away from him. The misery Betty was able to clearly read on his face wasn't just a little bit insecurity.

It was a belief.

Something strong enough to rattle the usually cool-headed Jughead Jones.

And, Goddamnit, they should have been talking about this instead of letting it get to the point where Jughead was becoming the apprehensive one in their relationship.

This wasn't how it was supposed to work!

It wasn't supposed to be how they worked.

Betty wasn't going to fucking stand for that.

And her indignation on Jughead's behalf-on her own behalf, because did he really believe that she would just leave this amazing thing without a single thought?!-is what gave her the strength to push her stupid, stupid boyfriend far enough to glare at his stupid, handsome face and force some sense into him.

"Jughead Jones. Of all the things in the whole damn world to be worried about, you bring up Archie? I mean-" She slid one hand around to grip at the back of his hoodie, her fingers brushing against the softness of his hair. "Haven't you been paying attention at all for the past few months?"

Was her affection not painfully obvious?

Betty felt helpless as she faced the naked hope and disbelief in his eyes. What would it take to make him understand how terrifyingly in love she was with him? "You-, I just, I can't get enough, Juggie."

And it was the closest to "I love you" as she had ever gotten, and even that little bit terrified her . . . but.

But.

Maybe it was okay to feel this much.

Because obviously, Jughead was just as susceptible to the emotional overload that seemed to throb in every corner of her ribcage.

Betty wanted to laugh. It figured that the two of them would talk about almost everything except for their biggest truths.

And then, Jughead had to just say it.

Like he wasn't exposing every bit of himself to her

I love you.

Oh, how Betty wished that they weren't in a public diner where she couldn't just pull Jughead so close that they could literally climb into one another.

Things were bad enough already with the two of them attempting to occupy the same space in this booth.

"What . . ?"

And this was the first time that Betty was 100% pissed at the redhead for butting in where he was obviously not invited.

Betty could distinctly remember Archie always having other people to meet and hang out with when she was available—made herself available—for him. Now, that he wasn't the center of her world, he seemed to have all the time in the world.

Figures.

But, he was Juggie's best friend. And the two of them were always happy to see each other. Though, the look on Jughead's face as he pulled himself away from her . . . maybe he wasn't too excited to see his best friend after all.

She felt a little bit better.

Archie fidgeted slightly as he took the seat across from them. "Uh, hey guys. What's going on?"

The question really shouldn't have irritated her as much as it did.

Jughead settled himself beside her, reaching for his burger while Betty picked up a slice of her own quesadilla. "Just got out of a movie and decided to stop by for a bite. What'cha up to, buddy?"

"I . . ." More fidgeting, Archie's own bag of take-out clutched awkwardly in his hand. "Um, I just-" The redhead seemed to physically steel himself before placing the bag in the empty space beside him and folded his hand in his lap.

The smile on his face almost seemed real, and Betty's mind raced with questions. When has she ever seen Archie look like this?

"It's been awhile since the three of us just really hung out, you know? Or, I mean, like, catch up or anything," he stammered.

"Things are the same with us, Arch." Jughead stated after a swallow, he reached over Betty to dip his fry into her sour cream. "No change on our end."

And that was an . . . interestingly worded statement.

Betty couldn't help but feel like some kind of spectator, eyes tracking between her boyfriend and her . . . ex-boyfriend? Did they ever really date? Then maybe he was just a friend that she used to have an obvious one-sided crush on?

"I can see that."

Archie's tone gave her pause, and Betty looked up from separating a string of melted cheese from her second slice to see something like disappointment on the redhead's face. Despite Jughead's constant shifting beside her, natural movements he made while he ate, she could feel him prepare himself.

Confused, Betty tried to figure out the situation. Were the two of them in the middle of a fight? She nearly groaned, remembering the few "scuffles" the two of them endured before. Fights between Jughead and Archie were childish at best, and she could just imagine what stupid thing they were at odds about now.

(I love you, and I don't know what I'm doing, but I want you to try, Betty. I want to try because I want you to be happy and, and if Archie and Oxford or something else makes you happy . . .)

"Wait."

Both men looked away from each other, attention completely focused on her, but Betty couldn't even bother with making "what-is-with-this-twilight-zone-bullshit?!" looks at Jughead because she was too busy trying to understand Archie freaking Andrews. "Are you angry?"

Archie immediately stammered at the accusation, clearly displaying his guilt, as he turned red and waved his hands in front of his face. "At you? No, Bets! I would never-"

"But you are angry at Jughead."

Mouth half open as he literally paused in the middle of defending himself, Archie's eyes moved slightly towards Jughead before snapping away, refusing to make eye contact with either of them.

Un-be-lievable.

Appetite long gone, Betty put her food back down on her plate, as calmly as she could, and leaned back in her seat. "Well, would you like to tell the class why?"

Jughead nudged her with his shoulder, "Betty-"

"Shut up, Juggie. I asked Archie a question."

"I understand that, Sunshine, but this is something that Arch and I need to-"

"You and Archie need to what?" Betty snapped, throwing him a glare. She didn't let Jughead's blank face deter her. "Act like possessive, insecure assholes?"

Both men—boys—blinked at her.

Betty knew the symptoms. She's been friends with Ronnie for too long to not be a connoisseur of teenaged angst and conflict. She knew an explosive fight when she saw one, and she knew a long-lasting conflict that has been bubbling and festering for days upon days.

Hindsight is 20-20, as they say.

Betty took a deep, cleansing breath. "What you two need to do is freaking talk. Like. Adults." She turned her glare on Archie, who wilted in a very satisfying fashion. "And maybe stop acting like idiots."

"Betty-"

"Archie Andrews. If this contention between you and Jughead is about what I'm thinking it's about, we are going to have some words, and I promise you that you will not like them."

"You don't understand-"

"Oh, I understand plenty!" She snapped. "I understand that I have been spending many years pining after you, and after being repeatedly rebuffed by you, and constant reminders that I would 'find someone for me,' I have finally grown up and moved on. And," Betty breathed through the lump in the base of her throat. "And now that I have finally moved on and realized that, 'yes, I do deserve someone better who won't keep on telling me that I'm just not the right girl for him' you have a problem with it."

She curled her fists into the sleeves of her cardigan. "Am I wrong?"

And, God. Betty wanted so much to be wrong.

This just . . . it didn't make sense at all! Jughead and Archie's friendship was practically an institution of Riverdale. They were two peas in a pod, and loved each other like brothers.

Betty couldn't—and again, the stupid tears were blurring her vision—she just couldn't be the reason they were fighting.

She couldn't, couldn't, couldn't.

Her chest painfully compressed, and Betty couldn't . . . she was too exhausted to deal with this, not after news about college, and dealing with Jughead's insecurities, and-

"Betty."

"Bets."

Both men reached out to her, hands hovering just outside of her personal space, and Betty couldn't.

Damning her laugh for being so watery, she shook her head. "No. You two need to sort this out. You, you were right, Juggie. This is between you and Archie."

"No, wait, just, let me explain!" Archie's hand wrapped loosely around her wrist and Betty recoiled, twisting her limb away. She needed to get away from this.

Twisting slightly to reach for her purse, she didn't have to tell Jughead anything as he immediately slid from the booth to let her get out, and despite the tangle of emotions in her chest, she couldn't help but love him for it.

Jughead's face was clearly distressed, unsure of what he expected Betty to do or say, so she reached out for his hand, hanging awkwardly near her shoulder, and pulled it to her. She pressed a kiss to his palm before hooking her fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck and pulled him down far enough to place a kiss on his cheek.

He curled a little further into his space, obviously relieved.

"You two talk," she spoke softly against the arch of his cheek, not trusting her voice to break if she spoke any louder. "I'm going to head home and you can come by after, or not, whatever you want, but, please-"

"We'll talk," he whispered back, his kiss at the corner of her eye felt like an apology, and the last thing Betty wanted to do was walk away from him. "Go on ahead. I'll head over after."

Betty nodded.

"It will be okay."

She trusted him.

" . . . okay."

* * *

 

[Word Count: 2093 words]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOMP. Well, this chapter took a very random turn a few paragraphs in, and I decided to follow it through. I think the conflict I was looking for in the last chapter made itself home in this one: definitely not what I was planning (my plans are always fluid, so whatever), but I'm comfortable with this.


	35. Roses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And I recall in spring  
> The perfume that the air would bring  
> To the indolent town  
> Where the barkers call the moon down

A medium-rare burger with lettuce, tomatoes, pickles, onions, ketchup, and mustard on a sesame bun. Seasoned wedge fries on the side.

A basket of onion rings with a side of honey mustard.

Lemon-poppy seed buffalo wings, Velveeta-salsa dip, and a large slice of strawberry-rhubarb pie with a scoop of vanilla ice cream.

And it was an absolute shame that the lovely Betty Cooper wasn't the one enjoying the spread with him.

Archie didn't look all that excited to be there either.

Jughead curled his hand into a fist, imaging Betty's parting kiss, before sliding it into his pocket. He could see Archie tense in preparation to stand, possibly to chase after Betty, and slid back into the booth just as his friend began to push himself up.

"Take a seat, Arch."

Archie's face was incapable of hiding emotions. It was one of his weaknesses . . . and also one of the most endearing traits about him. So seeing Archie try to bury his true feelings as he turned his face back to Jughead was—well, frankly—painful to see.

But, oddly enough, it gave Jughead a little bit of hope to see Archie refrain from immediate hostility. The guy wasn't the strongest wolf in the pack, but he had a pretty mean punch if he lost himself enough in his emotions.

"I should g-"

"We should talk." Jughead interrupted. "I think we are a bit overdue."

A little bit of anger cracked through Archie's expression as he dropped back into his seat, shoulders tense. "Oh, so you're ready to apologize then?"

Which was probably . . . the most incredibly stupid thing to ever leave Archie's mouth, and keeping himself from reacting too rashly was exceptionally hard, but Jughead prevailed. He shoved a fry into his mouth to distract his body.

God, he wasn't even hungry. Was this the twilight zone?

Deep, cleansing breath. "All right, I'll bite, buddy. What should I be apologizing for?"

"Dude!" Archie hissed, eyes quickly scanning the diner before leaning forward. "This . . . this thing between you and Betty! It's not cool! How could, how could you do this to me?! I thought we were friends!"

"Archie. Nothing you are saying makes any sense. What does my relationship with Betty have to do with you?"

"You know!" He sputtered, getting a little red in the face before slamming his fist on the tabletop, rattling the rapidly cooling plates of food. "Betty and I! We have a history. A history that you have been 100% aware of and . . . and you totally go against everything and just date her?"

Jughead blinked. "You've dated Betty."

"Yes!"

"You are now dating Ronnie."

Archie had the gall to roll his eyes. "Well, yeah!"

"And as of," Jughead looked up in thought, "I want to say the last part of August our Sophomore year, you hadn't taken Betty on a single date."

Archie opened his mouth to say something—Jughead hoped to whatever higher power was listening that he wasn't going to freaking say 'yes' again—but Jughead interrupted. "However, since the very first year of our freshman year, you have taken Veronica on dates at an average of 3.5 outings per week."

And, the mouth hung open, Archie staring with wide eyes as Jughead simply looked at him.

"During the summer months, you will sometimes take other girls out on dates. Valerie, Cheryl—thought not since she started dating Dilton—Ginger, and other girls that were, frankly, so minimally involved with you, that I can't even remember them. And Ronnie, who was always a constant."

Archie huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "I hang out with Betty just as much as I do with Veronica, and that's not even the point, Jughead."

"If Betty was involved in any 'dates,' then, it was usually her taking you on a date. And they were always rebound dates, when you needed a pretty girl to boost your ego after another girl—or Ronnie—happened to crush yours." Jughead pointed out, shoving three cold fries into his mouth. The offensively cold potatoes were fuel for his simmering indignation that this conversation had to even happen. "Any other time you were hanging out with Betty, I was there a good 96% of the time because—and I need you to listen to this very carefully—Betty Cooper IS YOUR FRIEND."

"Jughead-"

"No, Archie." Jughead slapped an open hand on the table, causing the redhead to satisfyingly jump in surprise. "Get it out of your head that I'm somehow betraying you or breaking some stupid bro-code by being with Betty. I didn't steal her away from you: she's not a fucking thing to be stolen. Betty has been your friend, and she still is. I've always been your friend, and I still am, God help me, but if you can't just let your friends be happy and stop thinking that every little thing we do is just to spite you, then, you are going to lose us."

And this was hard. Giving Archie something as serious as an ultimatum just to make him see sense. Because as much as he loved Archie, he loved Betty Cooper at dangerously higher levels, and keeping themselves exposed to this was going to kill them.

Remembering the wave of realization pass Betty's face before she left them at this booth was a clear reminder of what was at stake: what needed to happen.

Archie and Jughead had not been close for the past two weeks. This tension between them, this painful rift, had lasted the longest it ever has in their life-long friendship. And while there were some days that Archie seemed like a complete stranger, Jughead knew that Archie was his longest best friend.

They had been kids together. Played in mud, ate questionable food left unattended, played pranks on neighbors, threw rocks at lakes, peed in the community pool, played in the arcade, and had sleepovers.

They told each other secrets that no one else deserved to know, and knew that the other would never judge them negatively for it. They protected each other's weaknesses and did the most embarrassing things for one another because . . .

Because they were brothers.

They were brothers in all of the ways that mattered.

This.

This couldn't be the end of it.

Jughead loved Betty. Archie loved Betty. They loved her in different ways, but essentially, there was that bond, that desire to see Betty truly happy.

As brothers, they should be able to deal with this without it ripping them apart.

In all honesty, before all of this happened, Jughead couldn't say that he was in love with Betty Cooper. With their history, if Betty had never consciously chosen him, he didn't know if he would have still fallen this deeply in love with her. They had been friends, best friends in a way that was a little less intense than his relationship with Archie. But it still meant something to him, and every hurt that Betty experienced irritated him. Every moment of her joy was a bit of joy for him as well.

If this had never happened, if Archie had pulled his head out of his ass, and saw Betty and what she offered for the gift that it was. If they had dated, and stayed together, and Archie chose her, and Betty was happy . . . Jughead knew that he would have been happy for them.

They would have gotten married and Jughead would be the best man. He would give the greatest "best man" speech. He would have stolen a dance with Betty and told her that if Archie did anything stupid, she should tell him so that he could set his buddy straight. He would show up at Sunday morning breakfasts and eat pancakes with their kids.

It was hard to admit and imagine now, but the Jughead of the past would have been content with that.

The Jughead now?

He breathed heavily as he watched the sauce on the buffalo wings slightly hardened as the meat cooled.

It was scary. It was fucking terrifying.

Jughead wanted Archie to be his best man. He wanted to be the one staring down the aisle, feeling overwhelmed and out of his depth, and watching Betty Cooper in white, walking towards him. He wanted Archie to crash their meals, brats that had Betty's eyes, nose, smile, and his genius, calling him "Uncle Archie" before they dug into stacks of blueberry pancakes.

He wanted Archie to be happy.

He wanted Archie to be happy for them.

Isn't that what brothers do?

Weren't they still brothers?

Jughead really, really hoped so.

Taking the small plate of pie, crust soggy in a pool of half melted ice cream, Jughead slid it over to Archie, who had dropped his gaze from Jughead halfway through his spiel, and stared into an empty space of the table between them.

"Archie. Bud, have some pie." He sat up and grabbed his coat, sliding it on before climbing out of the booth. "Just, think about it, man. You are still important to Betty. You're still my friend. It's just . . . the ball's in your court."

Archie's eyes were still glued to the plate of soggy pie when Jughead stepped away, ignoring the eyes of the diner staff as he headed straight for the front door. As soon as he stepped into the cool, fresh air of the rest of the world, Jughead collapsed leaned into the rough brick wall of the Pop's and took a deep breath. The sky was overcast, heavy with the possibility of rain, but it was the time of year when it would look like rain in one moment, and impossibly clear the next.

He was exhausted.

Exhausted but . . . it had to happen. This was a long time coming, and regardless of how it turned out, Jughead felt just a little bit lighter for it. He wouldn't lie to himself about not being worried about what Archie's final decision may come out to be, but deep, deep, deep in his gut, he was sure that in the end, Archie would choose to be happy for them. Regardless of what happened in the future, he wouldn't lose his best friend.

If he were a praying kind of man, he would pray for this.

Instead, he had to rely on his gut, and rely on the true Archie Andrews to make the right, mature choice.

Closing his eyes, he took another deep breath.

It was over for now.

But, he still had more to do. The day was getting short, and Betty had taken the car to her home. Pops wasn't too much of a walk to Betty's neighborhood, and in all honesty, he could probably use the time to think (as if he hasn't done enough of that already).

The door to Pops opened up, bringing his attention to the actual Pop Tate, standing there in his stained apron, a large paper bag held in one hand. His dark mustache twitched over his awkward smile. "Trouble maker."

Jughead was surprised by his own chuckle, pushing himself off from the wall. "Hey-"

Pop shoved the bag into Jughead's arms, and he was quick to catch it against his chest before looking down curiously, recognizing the smells of their celebratory order, everything carefully packed into to-go containers.

"I don't want to hear it," Pop crossed his arms and stepped back. "What ever is going on is between you boys, but . . ." He pointedly raised his dark eyebrows as he nodded at the bag. "A good man makes sure that his girl doesn't go hungry."

Warmth blossomed in Jughead's chest, as he looked up with a smile. "Yeah. Thanks."

Pop nodded. "You and Archie will be fine. You boys have been the bane of my diner's existence for over a decade. Both of you will keep it up until I retire, mark my words."

Laughing, Jughead shook his head as Pop marched back into the dinner, grumbling about teenagers, angst, and hormones. Hooking his fingers into the handle of the paper bag, Jughead turned to head down the street, a little pep in his step as he directed himself on the shortest path to Betty's house.

He may have gone a little more than two blocks, before the scent of flowers pulled his attention away from the bag of food in his arms (would Betty notice if a few onion rings went missing?). A wall of cones, each filled with specific colors of roses beckoned him into the florist.

Wasn't it normal for boyfriends to give their girlfriends flowers after a fight?

Granted, he and Betty didn't exactly dish it out, but in light of certain emotional turmoil—because he did feel like he needed to apologize a little for his earlier outburst of angst on Betty possibly breaking up with him—he figured a little token would be appreciated.

Besides, flowers suited Betty.

And she deserved a little surprise.

His eyes immediately drew him towards a small cluster of purple-ish roses, caught by the odd coloring. He picked and paid for the one, ignoring the pointed looks of the lady at the counter as she wrapped the single rose in a crinkly cone of brown paper, tying the package with a thin strip of white twine.

Not wanting to get into any kind of conversation, he nodded his thanks and turned back to the door, only to come to an immediate stop.

Veronica Lodge's red Corvette was parked at the door of the florist, the brunette in question pinning him with a look . . . which was quite a feat since she was wearing a pair of designer sunglasses.

Awesome.

Sliding the rose into the paper bag, Jughead continued out of the store, only slightly surprised when the window automatically rolled down and Veronica leaned over. "Are you on your way to Betty's?"

"Well, hello, Ronnie. Looking as stunning as ever. Nice car. How is your day going?"

Veronica tipped her glasses down so that he could enjoy the full experience of her exaggerated eye roll. "Whatever, loser. Get in the car. I'll give you a ride."

Which was . . . exceptionally kind. 100% aware that Ronnie and Archie were currently "on" in their on-again-off-again relationship, Jughead considered the possibility that in the span of their epic showdown at Pops and right now, Ronnie could be completely caught up on their little drama.

But, at the same time, she didn't seem too put out as she leaned back into her seat, pushing the button to unlock the car as she adjusted the fit of her leather jacket, and fluffed her fringe.

And walking wasn't exactly something he enjoyed doing just because.

Stepping closer, Jughead pulled the door open—holy crap, this car was probably worth more than what his dad made in two years—and slid into the truly stellar leather interior of the car. "Thanks."

Veronica shrugged, and if Jughead weren't looking, he would have missed the small twitch of a smile at the corner of her red lips. "I was just passing by. Don't go thinking that I'm some kind of taxi service."

He smiled. "Would never cross my mind."

"Good."

And the car roared away, obnoxiously fast despite the busy road.

Jughead didn't mind at all.

* * *

[Word Count: 2,552 words]


	36. Secret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life isn't pretty,  
> We all get a little wrecked sometimes.  
> If God's listening,  
> People think you're out of your mind.

Leaning back with a groan, Betty propped her hand behind herself and watched the satisfying rush of liquid drain from her father's radiator. Her usual pair of automobile work-gloves were folded beside her, freeing her fingertips and palms to press against the rough concrete of the driveway.

The sun was close to setting beyond the horizon, warming everything it touched with swatches of pinks, reds, oranges, and purples. The late afternoon breeze was comfortable, softly drying the beads of sweat on her forehead where tiny wisps of blond baby hair were plastered to her skin.

Birds chirped. Kids played a little further down the street. Her mother was knitting in the living room with her father, windows open to allow the breeze in and the muted tunes of whatever television show they were listening to to float out.

Beyond the first three minutes when Betty drove home, frozen in her car after leaving Jughead and Archie at the diner, this was the first moment where she found herself without anything to do.

Which was hardly the point. Betty wasn't good with retrospection. She wasn't good with sitting still and letting her brain go through the 300,000 different ways that things could go right or wrong with each small decision.

And by, "wasn't good with" it, she meant that she was an Olympic-level pro at thinking herself into a ball of anxiety if left to her own thoughts.

Which was, of course, a problem that she wanted to stamp down ASAP.

So after three minutes of mind-numbing panic, Betty shoved everything out of her mind, and launched herself into her room, where she made a mental list of "things to do so that I can exhaust myself into a coma or until Jughead visits after talking to Archie."

The fact that she was confident that Jughead really would come by and visit her after her literal abandonment of his person (sure she wanted him to visit but she left him without a CAR) went a long way in calming her down as she changed into a pair of ratty, oversized coveralls, threw her hair into a quick-messy bun, and stomped her way back down, loudly announcing to her parents that she was going to change drain the radiator fluid out of her father's car before it became an overheating death trap. Betty was able to easily ignore the look her parents shared before making herself at home in the garage.

Which brought her back to right now, hands idle and brain revving to spiral into figuring out the complicated Archie and Jughead equation.

Maybe she should make some sweet rolls. Those were time consuming and required a lot of concentration and butter and sugar. She could make yeast sweet rolls so that kneading would be involved. It was practically therapy.

The radiator fluid began to trickle into a smaller stream of liquid, drip, drip, dripping as it emptied into the pan. Slipping back into her gloves, she climbed back up. Maybe after she was done with her dad's car. Radiator fluid and sweet rolls did not mix (toxic chemicals rarely complimented anything edible).

Moving on autopilot, Betty began the process of flushing the rest of the fluid out of her father's car, switching the pan out from underneath the car and pulling the water hose closer to the engine. The movements were comforting, keeping her busy, and when her brain inevitably slid into the realm of Jughead and Archie, she found it a little more bearable with the addition of auto-mechanic repetition.

To be honest, Betty was embarrassed . . . and maybe a little bit ashamed. For weeks, she had been so distracted by daydreams and half-baked plans of kissing Jughead and being with Jughead. Sure there were long instances of planning for school, and imaging the future and college, but for the most part, she had been so narrow-mindedly fixated on her desire for intimacy with her boyfriend that she had completely missed this obvious strain that existed between Archie and Jughead.

What kind of girlfriend was that? How selfish was that?

What else had she missed?

Was her complete ignorance costing Jughead and Archie their relationship?

"Wow, Betty. Tone down that arrogance," she mumbled, turning the car off and leaning back in the driver's seat as the engine clicked under the hood.

"Betty Cooper, arrogant?"

Betty jumped in surprise, her knee connecting with the steering wheel. "Juggie!"

Jughead Jones stood beside her, arm propped against the frame of the open car door and leaning into the vehicle, smug smile in place. "Welcome back to Earth, space cadet. I see that you've been busy."

Betty sputtered, struggling to recover from her boyfriend's sudden appearance. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught the tail end of what looked like Veronica's Corvette . . . but that couldn't be right? Jughead lifted his arm to bring attention to the plastic bag he held and immediately killed that train of thought.

"You still hungry? Pops packed up our order so it's still good." He glanced down into the bag. "Some of it may need a bit of a reheat but we can work with that."

"I," Betty paused looking from the bag of food to Jughead's face to the steering wheel. "How about you get a jumpstart on that while I finish here? I need to drain and flush the car one more time."

"Radiator?" he asked, grin still in place.

"Yes." Of course he knew that Betty had been getting on her dad about keeping up with the maintenance. He was around enough to witness the harmless bantering. Betty's chest warmed at the thought. She smiled at him. "Go on in. Mom and dad are in the living room."

Jughead didn't respond, simply leaning in and dropping a kiss to the corner of her eyebrow. Betty leaned into it, basking in the connection. It was hard not to let go of the steering wheel to pull him into a hug and just sink into him, but she was dirty and smelled like radiator fluid. And she didn't want to ask for more than this when they still needed to talk.

So, it was a nice surprise when Jughead leaned back, and Betty tilted her face up, probably to say something-maybe ask about Archie-and as she parted her lips, Jughead was there, his lips pressing against hers as he leaned further into the car. Her fingers slid into his hair of their own volition as Betty's body singed, instinctively taking as much of the kiss as she could. She nipped at his lower lip and preened as he sighed in response, licking across the lightly abused skin and right into her mouth.

Betty felt like burning as Jughead slowly broke the kiss, pulling away just a little bit with a smile. "I'll see you inside, then, sunshine."

"I won't take long." She wasn't even ashamed of how breathless she sounded, and decided to give Jughead a pass on how cocky his grin turned as he walked away.

And her brain was a pleasant fuzz of contentment as she finished up with her father's car. Her attention was barely focused on her hands as she refilled the car with fresh coolant, checked the lids on all necessary parts of the engine, and placed the used containers of fluids along the side of the garage so that her dad would be able to take them to their usual mechanic for recycling and disposal. The fifteen minutes of work felt like fifteen hours as she finally shed her dirty coveralls and headed back into the house. She stopped in confusion when she found the kitchen and dining room bare, no food or Juggie in sight.

Betty touched the warm surface of the stove just to make sure she didn't hallucinate the last thirty minutes. Her mother came in just as Betty started washing her hands.

"Forsythe is up in your room, dear." She smiled, making her way to the fridge to refill her ice tea. "He said something about a picnic? It sounded very sweet."

Betty blushed at her mother's attention, internally beaming as she dried her hands. "Thanks, mom. I promise we won't make a mess."

"Now, dear," her mother tutted. "Don't make any promises you aren't sure you can keep."

"Oh my God, mom!" Betty hissed, making her own way to the fridge just as her mom giggled her way back out to the living room. There were just some things that she really did not want to discuss with her own mother and her hypothetical intimacies with Jughead Jones was definitely on the tip-top of that list.

Cheeks burning, Betty took a deep, fortifying breath as she pulled the refrigerator door open, relieved at the first touch of cool air as she pulled out the eggs and butter she would need for her sweet rolls. She left them on the counter to get to room temperature and began to make her way upstairs, avoiding any and all eye contact from her stupidly-smug parents. Spotting her desk chair in the hallway outside her bedroom, Betty had only a few seconds to bemoan the oversized t-shirt and shorts she had changed into after getting home before pushing the door open.

Jughead sat on the floor, back against her bed as he finished dishing out the freshly reheated diner food on the picnic blanket spread out over her bedroom carpet. Her room wasn't cluttered by any means, but it was slightly impressive that he had managed to convert every available floor space into a welcoming picnic. The small television on her dresser was turned to some sport program, discussing the past game and possible plays for the upcoming weekend. He looked up to her as Betty closed the door behind her, returning her smile before sweeping his arm over the feast . . . like he was the one responsible for going out and catching their meal of the day.

And wasn't caveman Jughead an interesting thought?

Mentally waving that thought away, Betty chuckled. "Now, this is a date!"

"Hardly any trouble to put together," he smirked, motioning to the cleared space beside him, a plate of food already set for her. "Now, join me before it gets all cold again."

Betty slipped out of her house slippers, quickly climbing down to fold her legs under her in the spot by Jughead. Pressing a quick thank-you kiss to his cheek, she scooped up her plate, suddenly remembering how hungry she was. "Thank you, Juggie."

Her boyfriend's response was an inarticulate grunt, mouth already full of onion rings. Betty left him to take his fill, appreciative that he had at least waited for her to sit with him before making a glutton of himself. His thigh was a solid line of heat against her own and Betty felt herself melt a little further into the supportive mattress behind her as she dug into her own quesadilla.

Looking at the spread (she noticed that the pie was missing and realized that making sweet rolls later was going to work very well to replace their dessert), Betty's eyes stopped on the makeshift vase sitting in the center of the picnic blanket. The vase itself was actually one of the biggest mugs she owned, decorated with a cartoon cat sitting at a desk with piles of work surrounding it. The words framing the cartoon stated "It's Monday. Let's do this!" Half filled with water, a single rose leaned within it, lavender petals looking down on their meal.

Betty's brain whirred, struggling to remember exactly what the purple rose signified. Blinking, she snuck a glance at Jughead, his cheeks bulging with a bite of his burger, eyes glued to the television as he snorted at something the commentator said.

Didn't the purple rose mean something like love at first sight? Well, it didn't . . . it didn't really apply to their particular situation, Betty thought. When the two of them met as kids, Betty was sure that Jughead thought that she was annoying. And to be honest, she grinned, she probably thought the same thing! Next to Archie, Jughead seemed like the rudest, and most lazy boy on the block.

Taking a chip, she dipped it in a bowl of cheese. Well, this was Jughead that she was dealing with. The chances that this boy knew anything about the language of flowers was laughable at best. Knowing Juggie . . . well, he probably picked it because he thought that she would like it. She had worn a purple dress to one of their high school formals, and she remembered Jughead complimenting her on the color. But, Jughead always complimented her on her dresses.

Purple roses weren't very common. Maybe he just picked it because it was something different.

Like them.

Finishing half of her quesadilla, Betty slid her plate aside and leaned her head against Jughead's shoulder with a smile. She felt him shift beneath her cheek as he took a final bite of his burger, licking the ketchup from his fingers. Betty didn't want to ruin this, but . . .

"Thank you for saving our dinner, Juggie."

He shrugged just slightly. "Didn't really had to save anything. It was more of a relocation."

Betty let the silence stretch for just a few seconds more. "How did your talk with Archie go?"

She could feel Jughead think as he put his own plate down, leaning back and moving his arm so that it rested comfortably around Betty's shoulders, bringing her closer against him. "Well, it wasn't much of a conversation. But, I think it gave him a little bit to think about."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm not sure why I didn't talk to you about it," he started, a little bit of hesitance coloring his voice. "It just seemed like something that Archie and I needed to figure out ourselves. But, despite the fact that he's my best friend, and that we've been friends for most of our lives, I didn't know how to talk to him about this."

This. Betty and Jughead instead of Betty and Archie. It sounded so . . . impersonal. Betty frowned at the blank space of wall across from them.

"Archie and I don't talk about girls." Jughead continued, thumb rubbing at the neckline of her shirt. "If we did, then, it was always in relation to Archie. Girl 1 and Archie or Girl 2 and Archie. Or Ronnie, or-"

"Me." She said, leaning further into Jughead. "But it's not that way any more."

Jughead sighed. "Well, I don't really think I'm too surprised. Archie was never big with change. And I hate to really think about it, but in relation to you, he never really had a real label for what went on between you two."

Which was probably the understatement of the year. Betty didn't need to hear it again. She was in love with Archie. That wasn't something up for debate, but every other word out of Archie's mouth was "Betty, you are such a buddy," or "Betty, you are one of my best friends," or "I feel like you are just one of the guys, Betty." So rarely did he honestly consider her a girl, let alone girlfriend material. But they still kissed. Still went on dates (if Ronnie or another girl didn't interfere).

"And he was never really forced to make a decision where you were concerned." Jughead continued. "Now, he does."

Betty leaned back a little, just far enough to get a good look at Jughead's face. "Juggie, I know that Archie is important to you. I don't want to be the factor that messes up such an important relationship."

Jughead looked at her, face serious in a way that Betty wasn't used to. "If our friendship breaks, Sunshine, it won't be because of you."

"Juggie-"

"No." Jughead shifted, turning so that he was completely facing her. "I know it looks like that from your perspective-"

"It will look like that from everyone's perspective," Betty insisted.

"At first," Jughead conceded. "Sure, it may look like that now, but to our friends, to us, to the people that matter and the people that really know us, I know that they will be able to see what is really going on." He lifted his arm to rest on the mattress and leaned his head on his propped hand. "How many times have you heard our parents-heard Archie's father-go on and on about how immature Archie is? To his friends, it's just an accepted character flaw that we are used to. We don't see it as immaturity any more. We just see it as part of Archie's personality."

Betty couldn't hold back a snort, allowing herself a small smile. "I guess he hasn't really changed much from when we were kids."

"We all retain a little bit of what we were as kids. You are still an overachieving, lovable book-nerd," Jughead grinned and tapped his forehead against hers, making Betty's smile feel a little more authentic in response.

"And, you are still a lazy, lovable glutton with a terrifying ability to read people a little too well," she responded, turning her head so that she could drop a slow, soft kiss against the side of his mouth.

Betty closed her eyes, allowing her senses to take in everything that was Jughead. His warm breath against the side of her face. The tips of his dark hair, brushing against her brow like silk. The comfort of his skin under hers.

It was so, so hard to pull away. And as Betty ended the kiss to lean back, she didn't really get too far, instead, redirecting to drop another kiss right along side it, further from his lips and beginning a path up his cheekbone.

The fact that Jughead wasn't moving away was enough to steel her resolve. Just a few hours earlier, he had opened himself up to his insecurities and they handled it. In his own roundabout way, Archie had shared his own insecurities . . . or were forced to face them as the case may be. Now, it was her turn.

Her secret.

Her lips brushed along the sharp arch above his cheek, less kissing and more, just, savoring. Betty's hands stayed close to her own midsection, just a little afraid of what she would do if she . . .

Jughead brought his hands up to cup her face, pulling her away just far enough so that their eyes could connect. "Archie will come around."

The sudden mention of Archie was jarring, pulling Betty from the all-consuming headspace she had fallen into.

He took advantage of her disorientation to glance behind her, Betty assumed it was to see if the door was locked, before he laced the fingers of his right hand through the hair at the base of her head, pressing back until he hit the tie that held her hair up. From one moment to the next, her hair had tumbled around her shoulders in a wave of blond.

When Betty blushed, blue eyes dropping down to Jughead's lips, she knew that her boyfriend's endgame was just to get her flustered. Betty was painfully aware that she was shamelessly reactive to anything Jughead did to her person. He could do something as un-sexy as undoing her hair and she was a puddle in his arms.

It was embarrassing. It was annoyingly hott.

Jughead's self-satisfying smirk irked her as he began to pull away, fingers slowly sliding from her skull . . .

Betty reached up and wrapped her fingers around his wrist, halting his movement. Jughead's eyes snapped from where he was watching her hair move along her neck, to her eyes, clearly surprised.

The metaphorical tables were spinning under her fingertips.

"More, Juggie."

Jughead's eyes spoke volumes, widening as Betty's grip tightened around his wrist and moved his fingers back to the base of her skull. She could feel his fingertips tremble just a little before they curled to cradle her.

Betty was overwhelmed with the need to hide. She wanted to squeeze her eyes tightly shut and move herself over Jughead: fall into him and take take take. She loosened her grip on him, sliding her hand up his arm so that she could cradle the side of his neck. An image of a zookeeper calming a lion came into her mind's eye, and she nearly laughed at the comparison.

"I have a confession to make, Juggie." There was no turning back. This was it.

"Betty."

"I'm always craving this," she barely increased the pressure of her fingertips against the side of his neck. "Just being with you and . . . and touching you."

Their breathing was deafening, overpowering whatever noise was coming from the television.

"I know we need to talk about it because this is new, for both of us." Because it was such a novelty to be with someone that wanted to touch her like Juggie did so easily, so sparingly. And this was a gigantic first for Jughead Jones. "But, I just wanted you to know that . . ."

And that seemed to be the end of her bout of bravery, as Betty leaned over to hide her face on the other side of his neck. "I love you and I love it when you touch me."

Jughead's fingertips shifted just a little against her skull.

"When you are ready, when the both of us are ready, I'm ready for more."

The silence that stretched itself into every dark corner of the room seemed to last an eternity before Jughead managed to speak, his voice crackling like static. "More?"

Betty breathed him in, "When we are ready."

When you are ready.

She couldn't get a read on Jughead when he let out a deep breath, sagging further into both the mattress and into Betty, but she figured that there wasn't too much to worry about as he brought both arms around to envelop her, bringing her closer.

Betty thought about the purple rose at the center of their meal, at the center of her room. You are irresistible to me, Jughead Jones, she thought.

When we are ready.

* * *

[Word Count: 3681]


	37. Snakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now I caught you, I won't let you go  
> You got that thing that I been looking for  
> You got a heart full of gold  
> And that's really turning me on

"That is hardly center, you dolt. I said a little more to the left."

Biting his tongue, Jughead rolled his eyes as he shifted the glorified flower wreath to the left for what was probably the 8000th time. His arms were going a bit numb from holding them up constantly for the past thirty minutes. With the amount of times that he shuffled the damn thing left and right, he was starting to reevaluate his stupid decision to help Veronica.

-/-/-/-

Usually, Jughead had copious complaints about Veronica's ability to drive. Just because she drove a car that was stereotyped to be fast did not mean that she was allowed to toe the limits of all traffic speeding laws.

But the drive was surprisingly easy to tune out, mind focused on reaching Betty, leaving Archie behind, and the single rose cradled along with take-out diner food in his lap.

Ronnie was surprisingly lax in conversation, doing little more than humming to herself as she adjusted her make up at a random stop light.

Jughead would silently admit to the ride being companionable as they coasted to a slow stop just a few houses down from Betty's.

The blonde in question was half buried in the hood of her father's car, probably working on the radiator that she constantly bothered Mr. Cooper about. Even at a distance, seeing her focused on a project was . . . endearing. Adorable.

A failsafe at making him smile without thought.

Hearing Veronica shift in the driver's seat was an immediate reminder of where and who he was with. Snapping himself out of his weird head-space, he reached for the door handle. "Thanks for the ride, Ronnie."

"I did not say that you could leave this car, Jughead." Veronica drew out, succinctly enunciating each word as if to make sure he understood.

Arching an eyebrow, Jughead turned away from the door to face Veronica. She slipped her sunglasses off, eyes focused on Betty as she ran her fingers through her hair. Jughead counted maybe forty seconds of silence, waiting for Veronica to continue before she shifted her focus on him.

Sharp, laser focus.

Jughead wracked his brain to remember if he had inadvertently done something to poke fun at the rich heiress lately. She was always a bit sensitive when forced to be the butt of his jokes, but he couldn't recall anything he had done to offend her person as of late.

"We've been friends for a long time, Juggie."

Jughead was curious as to what her definition of "friends" was.

To the best of his knowledge, they barely tolerated each other.

"But I just want you to know," Veronica flipped her glasses in her hands, the temples clacking against the rims. "that if you do anything to hurt her, I will do everything in my power to make you regret it."

-/-/-/-

"Ok, stop!" Ronnie held up her finger before slowly taping it on the end of her chin and tilting her head in consideration. "All right. Almost perfect. Now, I need you to just rotate it just a bit. I want the blooms to look balanced on both sides."

"I don't even know what that means."

"Ugh, just, turn the wreath clockwise—slowly—until I say stop."

Jughead felt ridiculous, but after a calming inhale and exhale (a tip learned from Betty), he did as he was told. Chuck's barely suppressed giggles did nothing to make this freaking easier.

"Perfect!" Ronnie snapped, white teeth flashing in a satisfied smile as Jughead carefully released the wreath. To Jughead's great relief, a scuffle around the boxes of ribbons and confetti pulled her attention to the far end of the hallway, heels echoing away as he climbed down the ladder and rolled his shoulders.

Man, he was hungry.

Chuck's hand squeezed in solid camaraderie on his shoulder, lightly shaking him in obvious glee. "Oh man, I need to hear the story on how Veronica Lodge roped you into decorating duty."

"She's not a even a full-time cheerleader," Jughead gripped, perking up just a little as Chuck pulled a snack-sized Snickers from the pocket of his letterman jacket. After taking a moment to resent the fact that candy bars were sold in "snack sizes" (because who in their right mind would pick out snack-sized anything when there were such things as full-sized and king-sized candy bars), he made quick work of the treat.

Chuck shrugged, looking up at Jughead's handy work. "Eh, she's always cheering when it matters."

"You mean when she can get the most attention." Jughead vaguely remembered Betty mentioning that Veronica was cheering at homecoming, but that was months ago.

"And that still does not explain what you are doing with the interior decorating," Chuck grinned. "What is she bribing you with? Cruise dining?"

-/-/-/-

Jughead should have expected it.

Despite their differences, and the constant attempts to one-up each other, Betty and Veronica were best friends. Jughead could never really understand it, and he could admit to feeling minute feelings of irritation when he watched Betty take extra steps to make Ronnie happy when the heiress seemed to do so little for her in return.

But, he wasn't always around when the two girls were together, and they had been friends since kids. Their friendship has lasted as long, if not longer, as his friendship with Archie.

There must be something there.

But it was different, unnerving and different to be sitting beside Veronica, pinned by her expectant stare. In all of the years that Jughead had known here, this was the first time that he had ever seen her as serious.

A new side to Veronica Lodge.

Jughead leaned back in his seat, plastic bag rustling between his ankles. "I have to say, Ronnie. Wasn't expecting the whole 'protecting Betty's well-being' talk from you of all people."

Veronica's eyebrow raised in a perfect arch. "Trust me, Juggie-kins. I am the person to have this talk with you. I doubt Archie would ever, and her brother and sister aren't exactly living within city limits to put the fear of God in you." She looked away from Jughead's stunned expression, watching Betty pull herself from the concrete and lean back into the hood of the car. "And I loved her first. You best remember that."

Which was . . . not what Jughead expected to hear at all.

Veronica turned in her seat, slim arm propped on the wheel of the car as she leaned forward into Jughead's space. "Betty Cooper is my best friend, and I have no desire to explain our relationship to you because it. Is. None. Of. Your. Business. But you can bet your ass that if I get even a hint that you have made her unhappy, the two of us will be having a 'chat.' Understood?"

In the way, way back of Jughead's mind, he was aware that the fact that someone was giving him "The Talk" made his relationship with Betty feel officially official. The guys always liked sharing horror stories of dads, sisters, brothers and past partners coming up to defend the honors of their significant others. (Archie had the best story so far when an ex-girlfriend had pulled him aside to defend the honor of the clarinet chick he had dated for a short time). Now that Jughead thought about it, no one had really done that in Betty's honor . . .

Jughead struggled to keep himself from not smiling at Veronica. She was in the process of threatening him after all.

And she would probably punch him if he so much as grinned at this particular moment.

-/-/-/-

Jughead reached down and scooped up a few of the fallen leaves and flower petals that had fallen from the wreath. "Cruise dining was, like, three years ago."

"Yeah, and you were on foodie-cloud-nine for about a year after it."

Which was definitely an exaggeration. Jughead knew that he was invited by proxy (his friendship with Archie), and the buffets were subpar at best (both in quality and quantity of food). There was nothing like the glares of cruise employees to take some of the shine out of an all-expense paid vacation.

All of this talking about food was making him hungry again.

"You have another Snickers there, buddy?"

"Sorry man," Chuck held out his empty hands. "Mrs. Grundy was threatening to dismember anyone that took too many pieces of candy out of the 'great job for turning your homework on time' basket."

"I got you covered, sweetie," Nancy swooped in from behind them, gold ribbons draped across one arm and a protein bar in the other. "This has chocolate in it, and I'm in this low-sugar diet with Midge. This usually keeps me full for a few hours, but with you it's hard to tell."

Jughead smirked, touching the back of his hand to his forehead dramatically. "Oh, a woman after my own heart. Chuck, take this temptress away for my heart already belongs to another." He swooped in and snatched the protein bar as the couple laughed, halfway through devouring the bar before they pulled themselves back together.

Nancy hip checked Jughead before looking at Chuck and nodding back the way she came. "Speaking of 'another,' my dear boyfriend is needed down here. The ribbon is getting obnoxiously long to deal with and we need extra arms."

Chuck reached around to pull some of the shiny ribbon from Nancy's arms, careful to keep it flat as he began winding it up on his own. "Duty calls, my man." He narrowed his eyes at Jughead. "Don't think that we won't continue our conversation later."

"Nancy, tell your boyfriend to stop flirting with me."

The cheerleader cackled as she dragged said boyfriend away, finally leaving Jughead alone with a perfectly hung and positioned wreath.

Down the opposite side of the hallway, he could hear a cheerleader near hysterics, holding the shattered remains of a volleyball-sized disco ball. Veronica simply tutted, cellphone in hand. "Oh, don't even worry a lick about it. I'll have one ordered and sent overnight. There is darling lady in Louisville that has made discoballs for Madonna and Beyonce and I happen to have her on speed dial."

-/-/-/-

"Are you listening to me?" Veronica glared, looking pretty close to decking him despite his attempts to bite his tongue.

Jughead managed to keep a straight face as he nodded. "Crystal clear."

Veronica huffed, leaning back and slipping her sunglasses back on her nose. "Good. You know better than to cross a Lodge. Besides," she grinned, all perfect white teeth. "It's probably just as good that you know not to cross a Cooper either. You break her heart, she'll probably be the first to break you. I'll be lucky to have anything left to ground the heel of my Louboutins into. Capisce?"

Jughead was suddenly overcome with the irrational urge to offer the brunette a fist-bump, exceptionally proud to finally see this side of Veronica Lodge. Maybe this is the side of Ronnie that Betty got to see all the time. It was interesting to be faced with the fact that Veronica was more than a single-faceted rich girl.

It was oddly humbling.

"I hear you loud and clear, Miss Lodge."

"Good. Oh, and also," Veronica was fully reoriented in her car, facing forward and no longer bothering to even face him. "You can pay me back for saving your car-less hide by meeting me near the trophy case on Monday after school. Now, get out of my car."

Jughead had enough self-preservation skills to swallow back any demands for further explanation, throwing her a quick salute before hopping out of the car.

-/-/-/-

Jughead swallowed the last bite of the protein bar, watching Ronnie as she swept her arm in wide arcs to direct the rest of the cheerleading team in decorating the hallway. Back straight, heeled feet planted shoulder-width apart, glossy hair brushing the small of her back.

Veronica Lodge was a dictator in red lipstick, the kind of force that no one in their mind wanted to cross.

She was the snake in the grass that you never saw coming, eyes smug and confident when tailing any prey.

But she was also best friends with Betty Cooper, a self-proclaimed sister, and unselfish in her desire to make Betty happy.

They were allies in the apparent "Betty Cooper Protection Squad."

And that was enough for him.

"Oh man, I need to hear the story on how Veronica Lodge roped you into decorating duty."

Jughead smiled before making his way to his locker on the other side of the building. Ronnie hadn't roped him into anything.

He was simply doing a friend a solid.

* * *

[Word Count: 2,135]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter, but I think it tied itself up pretty nicely. I wanted to try something a little different, over laying the same narrative with different times: mixing the past and present. I love the idea of the two of these dorks forming the unofficial "Betty Cooper Protection Squad."


	38. Snow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I guess that means I really love you  
> 'Cause I'm afraid to make mistakes  
> If you ever left me  
> That would be my first heartbreak

"Oh, there you are," Betty mumbled before reaching out to grab the last tube of light portrait pink acrylic paint. Unfolding from her squat, she wiggled the catch to her companion. "Is this the right shade for you, Ethel?"

The tall teen looked away from the two nearly identical shades of paint in her own hand to glance at Betty, her dark eyes brightening. "That looks about right! How did I miss it before?"

"I'm afraid this is one of those times when your impressive height failed to assist you, girl. The very last bottle was near the bottom shelves."

Ethel grinned as she took the tube of paint and tossed it in her basket. "This is why I treasure my short friends."

"Shut up!" Betty laughed, adjusting the strap of her purse as she followed Ethel down the aisle to the check out lanes. "I'm not even that short."

"You are shorter than me, which is the only criteria I need."

"Everyone's shorter than you."

Ethel snorted, "Don't hate me because I'm Amazonian-ly beautiful."

"As fitting as that is, Wonder Woman, it's not a real word." Betty hip checked her companion as they started loading up the checkout counter with Ethel's stuff. "Did we grab everything you need to finish the doll house?"

"Yup! I finished all the woodwork and actually putting the house together. I need to give it another night to set before I get to painting."

"Jellybean is going to freak when she sees it," Betty smiled.

"You should have seen the instructions she gave me." Laughing, Ethel paid for her items before they grabbed the paper bags. "That girl knows exactly what she wants. Kind of like her ridiculous older brother."

Betty's chest warmed as she thought about Jughead. The man always seemed to know exactly what he wanted and had no problems being honest about those needs. She had to admit that she lucked out on the boyfriend department. She never needed to guess what was on his mind. It made gift-giving so much easier. "You say that like it's a bad thing."

Ethel laughed before bumping her shoulder against Betty. "I guess it all depends on the context. Jellybean is cuter so her demands are a little easier to swallow. If Jughead did the same thing, I'd punch his lights out!"

A cool breeze played with the fluttering ends of Betty's top while both young women entered the park, opting to take a more scenic route back to Ethel's home. Weekends meant that the park was covered in a smattering of children and their families, enjoying picnics, sports, or a relaxing nap in the sun. It was peaceful in a way that the last few weeks hadn't been. Dealing with Archie and the effects of his actions on both Jughead and herself was an endless string of gray days.

It was nice to just have a little bit of time in peace.

Out of the corner of her eyes, she watched Ethel walk beside her, completely comfortable in the moment with a pleasant smile and a carefree aura. Just seeing the relaxed slope of her shoulders brought a deep, warm feeling of pride through her belly.

If anyone deserved to be happy, it was Ethel Muggs. Years of puberty, teenage awkwardness, and self-criticism had made middle school and high school a collection of trials for her friend. She had thrived off of the challenges those years had dealt her. The Ethel walking beside her was a self-assured, confident, and beautiful young woman.

It was so, so, so fortunate that she was over her childhood infatuation with Jughead.

That would have been painful to deal with.

"Do you have any plans this weekend aside from finishing Jellybean's gift?" Betty asked.

Sun-dappled foliage threw dancing shadows across Ethel's cheeks. "I was in charge of planning the weekend date last time. This weekend is Hank's surprise. I just hope it isn't ice skating again."

"Ice skating? Again?"

"What can I say?" Ethel grinned with a shrug. "He's adorable and lovely with his words, but not the most creative of boys."

Ethel and Hank's story never ceased to enchant Betty, laughing as Ethel continued to detail the recent history of her boyfriend's questionable date decisions. Meeting your boyfriend over a pen-pal program was something straight out of a romance novel. It had taken some soul searching, but sometime during their sophomore year of high school, Ethel had had enough of her fruitless perusal of Jughead. Countless late night phone calls were spent trying to be a sympathetic ear to both of her friends, and it had been a very awkward position for Betty to listen to Ethel mourn the fact that Jughead didn't reciprocate her feelings, and to hear Jughead complain about the unwanted attention.

As much as Betty's heart broke for Ethel's situation, she knew that her fixation on Jughead was unhealthy. She yearned for the moment when Ethel could move on and concentrate her efforts on someone who actually loved her back.

By that time, Ethel and Hank had been talking for almost a year, content in their long-distance friendship. Betty wasn't quite sure what made things change, but one day, Hank was expressing deeper feelings towards Ethel . . . who was quite flummoxed since she was always the one pursuing potential lovers. To be the one pursued? It boggled her mind!

The Ethel Muggs before her today was a confident, beautiful woman who had finally found a healthy, loving relationship.

And a surprisingly therapeutic sounding board for voicing her own Jughead-woes.

"Speaking of dates, how about you, Betty? Any plans this weekend?"

Betty shook her head. "Not so much this weekend. Juggie has a family thing tomorrow and some kind of video game hang-out with Dilton and the guys. We are thinking about maybe a dinner and study session sometime during the week, but nothing is set in stone quite yet."

"Uh huh." Ethel arched an eyebrow as they passed a rowdy game of touch football. "Vague date plans. Seems to me like you are really starting to postpone your talk with Jughead."

Betty blushed at the tactless mention of the IMPORTANT CONVERSATION Betty had been avoiding. "Look, things have been a little crazy, Ethel. You know about the whole Archie thing-"

"Uh, the 'Archie thing' is gone and gone, girl. No more using that as an excuse."

Groaning, Betty shifted the handle of the plastic bag in her hand. "We did talk."

"Noooo," Ethel grinned, enjoying Betty's obvious misery. "You told him that you guys needed to talk more, pinned him to the floor of your bedroom, and distracted him with your feminine wiles."

"Ethel!" Betty hissed, glancing around to make sure that no one had heard. "That is not how it went down!"

"Oh, I'm sure you wanted someone to go down on-"

"Oh my God, shut up or I'm abandoning you immediately." The heat radiating from Betty's entire body could probably rival the goddamn sun.

Ethel's laugh boomed around them, her shoulders shaking merrily. "All right, all right. I'm done."

Betty glared at her.

"For now." She grinned. Shaking her head, Ethel dropped the jokes. "But seriously. The talk you had with Jughead was days ago, and don't think that any of your friends have noticed that you've been kind of avoiding any alone time with him."

Which was an unfortunate truth. Even Veronica had stared at her longer than necessary when Betty mentioned wanting a girls-only viewing of the latest chick-flick at the theater on a Friday night: an unspoken date-night for most Riverdale teens.

And . . . to be honest, Betty had been wrestling with some mixed feelings in regards to seeing Jughead and not seeing Jughead. She loved being with him and spending quality time together. As much as she was dreading their talk, she was also really excited to start really figuring out what they needed and expected from each other. This was the first relationship where communication was an actual, valued aspect of what they shared, and it was terrifyingly effective in making the both of them transparent.

But at the same time, Betty had some . . . assumptions. And if some of those assumptions were true? Well, how would they work around them? No matter what they talked about and decided, it would change their relationship immensely.

It had been a few months, but everything still felt so fresh and new. Betty was content with not changing just a little bit longer.

Even if it was driving her a little crazy.

"Just say it."

Snapping out of her thoughts, Betty looked at Ethel. "What?"

Ethel smiled, wrinkling her nose. "Betty Cooper. I know you. Even in your own mind, you aren't really articulating the source of your worries. You know that both you and Jughead are compatible emotionally and intellectually, but there is a big piece that you really need to face and—just—admit to."

"E-, Ethel."

"I mean, I had those thoughts, too." She smiled, kind despite Betty's obvious reluctance to keep going. "I was really attracted to Jughead. I like his stand-offishness, and his loyalty to his friends. But I also thought he was really, really sexy."

A laugh punched out of Betty's throat. "Yeah. He really is."

"But now you need to know if he finds you sexy." Ethel paused, graciously lowering her voice before stepping a little closer to Betty. "If he wants to have sex with you."

"Well . . ." Betty struggled to speak past the embarrassment and worry lodged in her throat. Because, yes. She really, really wanted to know if Jughead wanted to sleep with her. Was even attracted to her in that way. "We've kissed. We've, we've made out and cuddled."

Ethel nodded. "Which is miles beyond what anyone else has ever done with Jughead."

"And that has to be a good sign, right?"

"Jughead loves you. It's obvious that he would do those types of things with you." She looked pointedly at the blond, gesturing with a hand grasping the bag of paints. "But things like that don't always lead to sex. It could just be him wanting to be physically close."

Betty blinked at her friend, stunned by how articulate Ethel was being. "Um, what?" she stammered, even though she really meant to ask: how in the world do you know all of this; are you a sex guru?!

Ethel's smile was every shade of affectionate, shuffling both plastic bags into one hand, so that she could loop a free arm around Betty's shoulders. "I started researching asexuality in middle school, when I was in the deep, dark reaches of my Jughead years. All of the other boys I knew were shameless in their interest in girls and boobs, that I was concerned when Jughead didn't act the same."

Betty leaned shamelessly into Ethel's solid strength. "I've been looking up a few things, too. And . . . I mean, he's showing all of the signs . . ."

"Then, you know that it's not all black and white." Ethel stated. "I've read a lot of online blogs and testimonies of asexuals who don't have sex and do have sex. They are just as capable of being physically intimate with their significant other as regularly or irregularly as anyone else."

"But there are people out there who never have sex with the people they love." Betty insisted.

"Well, yeah, but it's not like they are shutting loved ones down when it comes to any kind of sex. They make compromises so that both partners can be satisfied, which can mean anything from non-penetrative sex, or massages, or polyamorous-"

Betty reached up to grasp urgently at Ethel's wrist, heart racing in her chest. "I love you, but this is definitely not something we should be discussing in the middle of a busy park."

"You're so cute when you're flustered," Ethel laughed, squeezing Betty closer before letting her go. "Now, I can see why Juggie loves poking fun at you so much. You're too easy!"

Betty gave some serious thought to reconsidering her group of friends.

"But, seriously," Ethel continued. "I haven't really had a chance to see you and Jughead just be together. But, I don't think you have much to worry about. If Jughead loves you as much as I'm thinking he does, then, he will probably do about anything to make you happy."

Smiling, Betty nodded. "I know. It's just . . . I've never had something like this happen with the other boys I've dated before." And she was constantly reminded of that every time she looked at Jughead. No one was like him.

Betty had never loved someone like him before. Not like this.

"We are very much aware that Jughead Jones is his own special rainbow."

Laughing, Betty agreed.

"And as unique as he his, he is just like every other boy in love," Ethel assured. "He will bend over backwards to make you happy."

Ah, the novelty of being in a relationship with someone who loved you back just as much as you loved them. The thought made Betty want to giggle like a lovesick teenager.

Betty embraced the feeling.

Emerging from the park, the duo walked a few blocks in companionable silence, enjoying the walk and each other company. Betty's mind slowly began to wander to dinner: tonight was a rare night where her mother and her were going to tackle a new, complicated recipe together. Her mom received international recipes in her email every so often, and this time, they were attempting an Indian stew. She made a mental note to text her mom later about any ingredients she would need to pick up on her way home.

"You know . . ."

Betty looked up, Ethel's face tilted in consideration. "When I first heard that Jughead and you were a thing, I was a little jealous."

Blinking, Betty kept silent, a little afraid of where this conversation was going.

"I mean, I had tried so hard, you know? I thought that my feelings were genuine, and that if I just made Jughead experience my affections enough he would come around." Ethel shook her head at the memories. "I've actually talked about it a lot with Hank. How emotions can make us irrational sometimes. How we can accidentally hurt people in the name of love."

Betty thought about her own actions, completely understanding what Ethel meant. So much of her time in the past had been spent trying to guilt Archie into spending time with her. It was embarrassing to think about now, but it was also encouraging to see just how far she had matured from that. Ethel's story was the same. She had learned so much from her own mistakes.

"Then, the more I thought about it, about how you and Jughead would be like together? It just seemed to make more and more sense to me, you know?" She led the two of them into the right neighborhood, clusters of yellow dandelions framing the sidewalk. "The two of you are the most mature and put-together people I know. You think about others before yourself, and you both are the people others turn to for strength and a listening ear.

When we were kids, and Jughead was being painfully obvious about how not into me he was, he still got me a Valentines gift." Chuckling, Ethel reached into her purse for her keys. The house they came up on was painted a welcoming pastel green, vines climbing around the garage door and lacing the walls with roses. It was one of the most adorable homes on the block, and consistently won "home of the month" for the neighborhood. Ethel was rightfully proud of the work her and her father had done to it.

"It was that first Valentines Day in middle school, remember? When we no longer had to bring in valentines for the whole class? All of the popular kids were the only ones to get cards and candy from people while the rest of us had to look forward to discount candy the next day."

Betty wrinkled her nose as Ethel let them in the house. "I never did like that."

"Well, you can imagine my surprise when Jughead came to me after school and gave me a valentine snow globe."

"He what?" The blonde giggled, imagining the stubborn boy with a pink-wrapped gift. "Ethel!"

"I still have it!" she grinned. "It was a small thing. Instead of snow, there's heart confetti that floats around a plastic heart in the middle. It's the cheapest thing in the world, but I absolutely loved it."

"That is adorable."

"And considerate." Ethel pointed out. The house was silent, everyone else out doing their own thing, so the quickly climbed up to Ethel's room. The tall teen was quick to drop her plastic bags on her bed before turning to her desk. Betty spotted the snow globe in question, sitting among mugs of colored pencils and markers. The red base of the snow globe was worn white in sections, like Ethel had handled it continuously, shaking the globe and watching the hearts float. It was easy to imagine Jughead picking the small gift, all for the purpose to make someone happy.

Because while Jughead didn't love Ethel, he still considered her a friend. And he wanted his friends to be happy.

No matter how annoying he considered them.

Betty chuckled as Ethel placed the snow globe in her hand. "He was such a smart ass kid. But he definitely had a good heart."

"What do you mean, was? He's still a smart ass with a good heart."

Laughing, Betty shook her head. "Well, I guess you get me there."

While Ethel began the process of organizing her art crafts, Betty have the globe a tiny shake before replacing it on the desk. The cloud of mini hearts danced and bounced on the storm of bubbles before settling on the bottom.

Betty was almost overwhelmed by the affection she felt for both Jughead and Ethel. How was she so lucky?

"I'm going to take some initiative and send you some of my favorite asexual research links," Ethel stated, apropos of nothing. She threw Betty a wink over her shoulder. "I think you'll find the intimacy tips very interesting reading."

"Oh my God, I hate you so much."

Ethel cackled.

* * *

 

[Word Count: 3,075]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic was missing some serious Ethel love. Consider it FIXED.
> 
> WARNING: The next chapter will have some "M" rated content. I have some interesting ideas percolating (of the sexy-times variety) and I want to explore ALL OF THEM.


	39. Solid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We are bound to inherit  
> The sins of our parents  
> And all of the people we passed through  
> Now we're down to the last two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is talk about sex and a description of sexual acts but nothing overtly detailed (I think). TO BE HONEST THIS IS ALL FOREPLAY. I APOLOGIZE IN ADVANCE.

Swiping up with his thumb, Jughead's attention shifted between his phone and the eerie music playing from the puzzle video game Betty was playing on the television. After too many consecutive days of hanging out with friends, homework, and family obligations, it was novel to be able to just be lazy together with no one else involved.

Betty's parents were out for a weekend shopping trip, so they had the house to themselves for once.

He smiled at his phone, eyes unfocused in retrospection. He could imagine what his buddies would do with such an opportunity. Empty house? Alone with the girlfriend/boyfriend? No interruptions?

And here they were, Betty sitting at the foot of her bed, focusing on the latest puzzle horror game while Jughead nested in a beanbag right against her mattress. She had one leg hanging over the end of the bed, calf hooked over his shoulder and her ankle cradled against Jughead's chest. He was slouched comfortably, one hand on his phone and the other wrapped firmly around her ankle: the one that had been injured so many months before. His thumb rubbed circles around the delicate bones, enjoying the contact of skin on skin.

She smelled like the raspberries in her shaving cream, toes flexing mindlessly against his thigh.

This was relaxing. This was nice.

It was perfect.

Betty's blue eyes narrowed behind her glasses, squinting at the screen as her character came across a particularly challenging path. "Huh," she shifted behind him, leaning slightly forward.

Jughead looked up, immediately taking in the dark shape of the young character she was playing and the cliff that stood before him. "The branch of that tree close by?"

"I think that's a red herring," Betty mumbled, moving the character back and forth in small increments while she observed the screen. "In the last level, one of the branches broke while I was swinging across. I think I'm supposed to combine some of the items I've collected so far to fashion something to go across the boulders." She tipped her head in consideration. "I think I have the items to build a rope bridge . . ."

Tipping his phone away from his face, Jughead ran his fingertips up and down the top of her feet while he watched Betty quickly open up her character's menu and began to test the combination action on a length of rope and wood debris from the boat she had explored previously.

"Ha!" She grinned triumphantly, leaning forward. "Knew it! Take that you stupid tree!"

The heel of her foot incidentally pressed a little tighter against him, and Jughead squeezed her ankle in quiet congratulations.

Betty's character continued on, and Jughead's eyes dropped back down to his phone, refreshing his social media feed. His own family was currently visiting his wacky uncle, and his mom had posted a picture of Jellybean sleeping in her booster seat, drooling in her sleep, cheerleader teddy bear squeezed in her arms. Smiling a little at the sight, he quickly saved a copy of the image to his phone's gallery and "liked' the post.

Before he could leave a comment about them driving safe, his phone buzzed silently in his hand, an email notification popping down from the top of the screen. His eyebrows rose at the sign of Ethel's name before reaching up and tapping the notification with his thumb. The screen suddenly switched over to his email, Ethel's latest message pulled open for him to read.

Something to help things along 3

Which was . . . an interesting title to an email from someone he spoke to maybe once every two months, if even that. The two of them exchanged texts and emails every once in awhile, but it was usually in relation to Ethel's continuous interest in his life. It was relatively annoying, but much more bearable now that she wasn't actively pursuing him. Nowadays, Jughead only really bothered to keep contact because Jellybean liked her so much, and she was close friends with Betty.

He wondered for a moment if this email was simply addressed to the wrong person before looking down at the body of the email.

Hey, Lover-Boy:

Jughead's eye twitched.

So I'm sure that you know that Betty is pretty much one of my best friends in the world, and while you will forever be known as the man-child-that-got-away, I still consider you a friend who could stand to benefit from my infinite wisdom.

Oh, hello, headache. Jughead had half a mind to just delete the stupid email, but, alas, she was Betty's friend . . .

So consider this a call to arms, Juggie.

Betty is my girl and if anyone deserves to be treated right, it's her. Check out the links below and feel free to be inspired to BLOW HER MIND *winkwinkwinkwink~

Give her a break from thinking her pretty little brain into an early grave with all of this college and graduation nonsense. Trying out at least a few of the tips I linked you to are great for relieving stress. THAT'S JUST SCIENCE.

YOU ARE WELCOME.

Jughead's eyebrows lifted a bit further at the significant collection of hyperlinks following that statement. The list didn't particularly reveal anything since they were hyperlinked to Ethel's random babble of nonsense:

A wonderful way to burn calories with the one you love!

Regulate stress in a few easy steps!

Endorphins and oxytocin are good for the soul! ;)

Increase that confidence!

!

Help that special someone in your life take their mind off of their responsibilities for an afternoon :D

And the bullet points went on. The list was honestly impressive and Jughead was a little wary to click on a single one, fearing that he would need brain bleach.

PLEASE FORWARD ANY "THANK YOU" BOUQUETS TO MY ADDRESS (I'm partial to those chocolate-and-fruit-stick-thingies).

HAve fUn 3

The Amazing, Thoughtful, and FABULOUS Ethel

Now, he really didn't want to click on any of the links.

Which didn't explain why he reached his thumb over and tapped on the "!" link. Like the wise Dorothy Parker said, there is no cure for curiosity (except to accept your lot in life and click random-ass links).

His browser pulled up a page, innocently titled "The Art of Mindful Oral Sex."

So much goddamn regret.

He must have made some kind of noise because the next thing Jughead knew, Betty had leaned forward, eyes probably drawn to his phone without a second thought. The click of the button on the game controler pausing the game was almost thunderous, pulling all of the air out of the room and filling it with thick silence.

Well, maybe not so much silence. Jughead couldn't hear anything past the thundering in his chest and Betty's choking breaths.

"U-um, Jug-"

"Ethel," he answered her unfinished question. "Just got an email from Ethel."

The acute embarrassment and tension was painfully uncomfortable, but Jughead liked it even less when Betty suddenly pulled her leg away, falling back into her bed to attempt smothering herself with the comforter. "Oh my God. Ohmygod I'm going to kill her."

"What." Jughead sat up in his bean bag, automatically reaching out to rewrap his fingers around Betty's ankle. She didn't pull away this time, apparently too busy trying to wish herself into non-existence as she mumbled angrily into her bed. He couldn't understand a single word she said, but his mind whirred to catch up.

Betty threatening physical harm on anyone was a rare occurrence. But this was clear female indignation, which meant that the two of them had talked about something, and the unspoken rule to not mention it to anyone else had been broken.

Jughead looked back down at his phone, risking several brain cells as he skimmed further down the surprisingly informative article. Oral sex. As batshit crazy as Ethel was, she wasn't exactly someone who sent people random links to sex guides. Which meant that Betty and Ethel had talked about this.

The email, the links, "The Art of Mindful Oral Sex" all felt different in this context. Everything suddenly meant more, and in vivid technicolor, his brain replayed their impromptu picnic on the floor of this very room, the two of them nearly sharing the same space, Betty pressing hot, hot kisses against his mouth, cheeks, and neck; her fingers lacing through his as she ran their fingertips through her hair.

"I have a confession to make, Juggie."

"I'm always craving this."

"I love you, and I love it when you touch me."

Words like "sensuous," "arousal," and "foreplay" jumped from the screen of his phone, tattooing themselves on the back of his eyelids and drying out his mouth.

Did Jughead ever think about sex? He was a boy-a man-who hung out with horndogs that dated and went out with girls all the time. He thought about sex, but it was always something that other people did, that other people craved. Before dating Betty, Jughead didn't bother sparing a thought about orgasms. He could count on one hand the number of times he bothered to masturbate since vaguely realizing that dicks had more than one purpose. It just didn't seem necessary.

On those rare instances when girls showed an interest in him, he never took the time to notice the things that drove his friends wild. Lightly draped straps over bare shoulders, the hint of cleavage, or the gracious curves that lead to flared hips. None of these things brought out any special attention from him: they were simply characteristics of the people who owned them, like hair color or freckles.

"Jughead, I will break your phone if you don't close that out immediately."

He looked up from the screen of his phone to see Betty looking at him with narrowed eyes. Her glasses were slightly skewed on her face, hair a slight mess after her attempts to burrow in her bed. Her cheeks were red with embarrassment . . . but there was something else.

Expectation.

Patience.

Jughead's eyes dropped from her red cheeks, down to her neck, taking stock of his girlfriend. Betty was dressed for comfort. Her shirt was a hand-me-down from her father, a Superman logo nearly faded out of existence in the center of her chest. It hung loosely around her, hiding most of her skin from his view save her clavicles and toned arms. Her long legs were exposed, stretching from a pair of linen shorts, striped blue, purple, and pink and lightly creased. She slept in them often.

The tips of her toes were adorned in baby-blue nail polish.

She was dressed as herself, beautiful and comfortable in her own skin. Obviously not meant to seduce . . . but it was-it did something for Jughead.

Because throughout this courtship, Jughead did not question his desire to be near Betty, to touch her, and to kiss her. He didn't question the hunger that sometimes gripped him when he saw her smile or laugh or stood close enough to him that he could see the little cluster of freckles on her left shoulder.

And he should have questioned it. There should have been alarms blaring everywhere inform him that this was not normal.

But it was Betty. And being with her felt normal.

And if he hadn't questioned it before . . . well, he wasn't going to start now.

Jughead jiggled his phone slightly. "Why?"

Betty blinked at him, entire body still. "Why what?"

"Why close it out?" He clarified, dark eyes looking back down, scrolling back to the top.

Step 1: Ask permission.

"I feel like this is something we can talk about," Jughead pulled himself up out of the beanbag so that he could drop a knee on the bed, indicating his interest in joining her. Betty's eyes were impossibly wide. Beautiful. Stunning.

Breathless.

"I'd like to try and talk about it," he stated, not fully climbing on the bed just yet. "If you are comfortable with it, Sunshine."

If the blond blushed any harder, Jughead worried that she would faint from some kind of self-induced heat-stroke. Internal combustion, not the best way to start this. Betty's eyes dropped down to his knee, carefully considering every aspect of his position, as Jughead trusted she would do. After a moment, she took a deep breath, her body shifting backwards just enough so that she was sitting against the headboard, cradled by pillows. She slid her glasses off and placed it on the bedspread beside her. The blush remained, but receded just slightly. Betty's eyes gave nothing away before she nodded. "Okay. I'd, I'd like to talk about it, too. With you."

Jughead nodded before moving further onto the bed. The mattress shifted as he settled, legs crossed under him. Slouching just a little, he dropped his eyes back down to the phone

Step 2: Use your eyes.

The section referred to looking at the genitals . . . which felt a little fast in Jughead's opinion. He frowned a bit as he skimmed the section. Betty cleared her throat. "Um, I just want you to know, Juggie. I'm willing to go as far as you are comfortable going." Her smile was genuine, if a little nervous. "We can talk the whole time if you want."

It was crystal clear to both of them that this was Jughead's very first attempt at anything like this. Which seemed par for the course. He had kissed others (very few) before Betty, but in the grand scheme of things, many of his firsts have been with her so far. He's definitely never kissed another person in the kitchen, never pinned them to the counters with the desperation he had felt with Betty.

The desperation that he was feeling now.

The need to bridge the gap between them was buzzing under his skin, but Jughead mentally checked himself. They had time. This didn't need to be rushed.

They had time.

Baby steps.

"May I kiss you, Betty?"

Betty's responding "Yes" was completely breathless, but it was enough to pull a small, private smile to her face, and it was all Jughead could do to scoot forward a little more, and lean into Betty's space, opening his mouth against hers. Betty melted instantly into him, pressing back against him and tilting her head just enough so that the could slot themselves in closer to each other. His eyes had closed automatically when their lips met, but now, he opened half-lidded eyes to watch her eyelashes flutter against her cheeks, her jaw working as her tongue tentatively met his.

Kissing Betty was easy now. They worked at it, learned each other each time.

Jughead wanted to learn more.

Pushing up onto his knees, Jughead pressed Betty further back into the pillows, languishing in the feeling of her submitting to his advances. She responded beautifully with each of his movements. Each nip to the bottom lip was returned, each breach of his tongue into the heat of her mouth was met with her tongue, giving and taking a little bit a time. Breathing through his nose, Jughead felt dizzy with the smell, taste, and feel of Betty. It was overwhelming, but he never wanted it to stop, electrified by her moan as Betty's hands slid up over his t-shirt to caress his chest and move up.

Breaking the kiss, Jughead gave Betty some time to catch her breath as he moved his lips further down to her chin, licking, kissing, and nipping a path down and across to her neck. Her smell was concentrated here, near the crook of her neck, and Jughead wanted to live in this space. He ran the flat of his tongue against the smooth skin, languishing in the taste of her. The taste of literal sunshine.

"Juggie," Betty breathed, her fingertips a solid pressure of heat as they swept up to press heat into his neck and jaw. She was holding herself back, trying hard not to just move Jughead where she wanted him.

Which was just as well, Jughead grinned. He had more places to explore. Adjusting his balance on the mattress, he shifted so that his jean-clad legs were straddling Betty's outstretched legs. This left both of his hands free to gently pull at the ends of Betty's shirt, indicating his intentions. "May I touch you, Betty?"

Betty seemed beyond words, nodding before pulling his face back to hers, sucking on his lower lip. His lips split into a grin, which caused Betty to respond with her own smile. And, oh, kissing while smiling was another treat.

Betty giggled into him, eyes affectionate and merry as she laced her fingers into his hair. Jughead couldn't seem to stop smiling into their kisses, his chest warming from the inside out. When his fingers finally slid far enough into the shirt to make contact with her bare sides, Betty gasped, squeezing her eyes shut and mouth wide open.

Jughead's attention was immediately diverted to his hands, concentrating on the smooth heat of Betty's skin under the shirt. His eyes dropped down to where his hands were, fabric folding and shifting with each movement. It was a different kind of intimacy, to feel the curves and dip of Betty's muscles but not seeing any of it. Each of Betty's breaths and shudders traveled clearly into Jughead's hands, thumbs meeting across her belly button.

He was suddenly struck with the desire to lick her there, to run his teeth along the soft flesh of her belly. Filing that away for later, he instead dragged his hands up along her rib cage. Betty was so tiny in comparison to him; he could imagine how the entire span of both of his spread hands could almost meet around her circumference.

Betty's hands expanded with each breath, her eyes half-lidded as she stared at where his hands had disappeared under her shirt. Her lips were swollen, red from his kisses and Jughead felt deeply proud of the fact that he had done this.

That Betty had welcomed his kisses and his hands on her body.

He wanted more.

His fingertips brushed lightly against the lacy edge of her bra. Ticklish, Betty giggled a little as he ventured a few fingertips under the garment, tracing the bumpy indentions of the bra against her skin. He wondered what she tasted like there, and smiled before pressing another kiss against her panting mouth.

"How are you doing there, Sunshine?"

Betty visibly blinked a little bit of the haze from her head, pulling herself back into the moment before shyly smiling. "I feel good, Juggie. You feel good." Her thumb traced the arch of his cheek. "How about you?"

Jughead looked back down at the shape of his hands under Betty's shirt before making eye contact with her again. "I'm golden. But, I think I'm interested in going a little further." And with that, his hands traveled back down, down, down, until they met the waist of her shorts. Betty trembled beneath his palms. "May I take these off, Betty?"

"Oh my God," Betty moaned, swallowing before tracing her hands down his neck, across his shoulders, and down his arms to his wrists. Her fingers tightened around him. "P-please, Juggie."

Betty had stated that she was willing to go as far as Jughead was comfortable. He knew that it inferred that Jughead was in control right now, and she was along for the ride. But feeling his heart race in his chest, the dryness in his mouth, Jughead knew, without a doubt that the one in power here was Betty. It always was.

Probably always would be.

And Jughead loved it. Loved her. Loved that this woman, that Betty, had this kind of power over him, and it reduced her to this warm, vibrating being beneath him.

Jughead felt humbled.

And incredibly turned on.

Leaning forward, he sucked at the skin under her ear so that he could hear, feel, and taste her as she keened, her body arching against him. His hands swept into the waistband of her shorts and slid them down, lavishing in the softness of her legs as he slid the shorts down far enough so that they were out of the way. Betty took care of shifting her legs, sliding the shorts all the way off. Jughead had to move a little to give her the room to pull them off, and by the time he had resettled against her, he was cradled into the warm junction between her legs.

She was a searing heat against his belly, and Jughead pulled away just enough to admire the mark on Betty's neck and look down to the sight of Betty's panties pressed against the thin fabric of his shirt. His mind blanked out for a moment at the realization that the most intimate part of his girlfriend was pressed insistently against him.

"Oh, God," Betty moaned, gritting her teeth as Jughead pulled himself further away, placing both of his hands on the tender skin of her thighs so that he would have a clear view of the damp spot slowly spreading on her panties. He was wrong, so, so wrong. Betty's scent was not strongest where her neck and shoulder met.

Dragging his eyes away from her core, Jughead looked at Betty's eyes. The blush was back, burning across her cheeks, but the joy was still there. She was embarrassed to be exposed in such a way, but still proud to let him see what he was capable of doing to her. Proud to show him how much she enjoyed this.

His mouth watered.

Step 3: Use your hands.

Jughead swallowed. "Betty, may I touch you?"

Betty breathed through a full-body shudder. "Please touch me, Juggie."

"Betty?"

"Yes?"

Jughead slid his right hand further down her thigh, close enough so that his thumb could press lightly against the damp spot, watching his girlfriend arch beautifully against him. He could feel her warmth radiating outward, could imagine her scent get stronger.

"Betty."

"Y-yes?" Betty was breathless.

Step 4: Use your mouth.

"May I kiss you?"

Betty seemed to be beyond words at this point, lost in the sensation of Jughead's jeans against her bare legs, his hands on her inner thighs, and his thumb rubbing irregular circles against her. Her chest heaved with each breath, small "ohs" leaving her lips with each exhale.

She was poetry in motion.

And Jughead must be gone on her if he was comparing anyone to poetry.

Lifting his thumb from Betty, Jughead leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss against her temple, tasting her sweat as she shifted against him. "Betty. Sunshine, may I kiss you," he pressed his thumb down again. "Here?"

"Jughead!" Betty sobbed, overwhelmed as she tilted her face up, capturing him in another kiss. "Jughead, please! Yes, please, please, please."

He smiled against the corner of her lips before leaning back, pulling his thumb away again, but instead of placing it back on her thigh, he brought his thumb up and licked it, basking in the way Betty's mouth drops in surprise and absolute arousal.

"Oh. My. God."

He flashed his teeth. "You know, I think this is going to work for us, Sunshine." He leaned over to kiss her cheek. "After all, I am a pretty big fan of eating."

A pause. Then, Betty burst into laughter, arms coming around to hug Jughead around his shoulders. He couldn't seem to help himself as well, laughing into Betty's hair as he fell against her.

"I cannot," Betty gasped, trying to pull herself together. Tears gathered in the corners of her eyes. "I can't believe you said that."

To be honest, Jughead was just as surprised with himself. Pushing himself back up to his elbows, he smiled down at her. This relationship was a plethora of firsts for him. And as he mirrored Betty's glee and obvious affection, he couldn't imagine doing any of this with anyone else.

If they were able to get this far, and still laugh while incredibly aroused? Then, they were just fine. Perfect even.

Betty stuck her tongue out at him as he wiped her tears away. "Didn't know you had it in you, Juggie. I have to say, I like this side of you, too."

Jughead had to admit, he liked this side of him, too. Who knew that he was capable of turning anyone into a buzzing mass of hormones? Fully intending to abuse this newfound power, he smirked. "Then, shall we get back to business?"

. . . .

Later that night, tucked in Betty's bed, Jughead pulled up his phone. The blonde was asleep against him, her head tucked under his chin and legs entwined. He had one arm pinned under her, which gave him one free hand to pull up Ethel's email.

Hitting respond, he typed in ":)."

He would have to think about the bouquet idea. Betty would probably want to chip in, after all.

Jughead grinned at the ceiling.

* * *

 

[Word Count: 4,142]


	40. Spring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the first day of spring  
> And my life is starting over again  
> The trees grow, the river flows  
> And its water will wash away my sins

"I'm so sick and tired of seeing all of these vintage floral patterns," Veronica moaned flipping through the latest copy of Vogue Paris, mild disgust slightly wrinkling the space between her meticulously waxed eyebrows. "Every statement that claims that 'florals are here to stay' just makes my skin crawl."

Nancy sipped at her iced macchiato, confusion clear on her face. "I am not even sure how to handle that statement."

"Ignore her," Cheryl tucked a strand of red hair behind her ear. "Lodges are notorious with their incompatibility with any type of nature-print couture. If it's not composed of solid, dark colors and slim lines, it clashes horribly with their entire demeanor." She smirked around the straw of her own beverage, "It must truly agonize you that Dries Van Noten has turned to the dark side."

"Hold your blasphemous tongue," Veronica seethed, clutching her fingers tighter around her glass of non-fat, iced-vanilla latte.

As the two women griped at each other, Nancy shared a glance with Ethel, who looked entirely over the whole conversation, instead, reaching over to slide the magazine towards herself and flipping further. Ethel was the only one of the four of them to bother with food, and nibbled at her orange scone (the Saturday special) as she stopped and tilted the magazine towards Nancy. "What do you think about this, Nance?"

Nancy tilted her head, leaning closer to examine the dusky blue floral wedding dress embossed upon the page. It was a gorgeous strapless dress, flaring out from the waist, and tumbling in waves of gorgeous fabric to the runway. Leaning closer, she pointed low at the model's waist. "Are those pockets?"

"Yes!" Ethel grinned, sliding her plate over to give Nancy a chance to steal a bite. "It's perfect."

Perfect for what? Nancy smiled at her friend before glancing back down. "Well, to be honest, I always assumed that wedding dresses were supposed to be white . . . especially first-time weddings."

"That is a common misconception," Cheryl interrupted, picking up the cafe's paper menu up to physically block Veronica's glare. The brunette was quick to snatch the item away with a growl. The redhead continued on. "Wedding dresses are created in a rainbow of colors and patterns for women, or men, who wish to stray from tradition."

"Oh, yeah!" Nancy nodded. "My cousin was married in a purple gown. I don't even think it was meant to be a wedding dress, but it was perfect for her."

"And probably cheaper," Veronica huffed. "White wedding dresses retail much higher than their colorful counterparts."

"Which brings us back . . ." Nancy quirked an eyebrow at Ethel. "Is there something you want to share with us, Ethel?"

Veronica leaned forward eagerly, earlier irritations forgotten. "Ethel, are you trying to tell us that Hank has proposed?!"

"Oh my God, guys." Ethel rolled her eyes, but never stopped smiling. Picking up the magazine, she held it up so that all three girls could see the spread. "Not perfect for me. I mean, look at this and tell me that it's the perfect wedding dress for Betty."

It didn't take long for the young women to quickly re-evaluate the picture, inspiration sparking in their eyes.

"We have to get Juggie to wear a matching floral tie."

"Oh my God with his complexion, it's going to be terrible on him. WE HAVE TO DO IT."

"You just leave that to me. I may not be dating the dolt, but I can get him to bend on this."

"Just tell him that it will make Betty the happiest."

"Who is the designer? We must keep it for future reference!"

"Ronnie, you are not buying Betty Cooper a wedding dress right now."

"Excuse you, but Betty Cooper is my best friend. It would only be right for me to do this for her."

"They haven't even been dating for that long, you psycho path."

"You hypocritical red demon. Don't think that we don't see you eyeing those complementary bridesmaid dresses!"

"But not in that horrible coral."

"But of course."

  
* * *

  
I do believe that everyone has one chance

To fuck up their lives

  
* * *

  
Slumped against the back of a park bench, Archie Andrews stared at one of the few lakes in Riverdale that wasn't overrun with happy-go-lucky families picnicking in the warm sun.

Despite the warm weather, he was still clad in one of his only clean hoodies, fists shoved into the front pocket. His butt was long past numb due to his position, but he was finding it hard to care, eyes unfocused on the static ripple of sunlight on the water's surface.

He had just slept for thirteen straight hours . . . why was he still so groggy?

Archie closed his eyes against the light and leaned his head back.

It was a Saturday afternoon. A sunny, breezy, perfect Saturday afternoon. No big tests or papers due. Nothing to make a teen dread the upcoming week of school.

A perfect Saturday.

With a sigh, he slumped further against the bench.

The others should be with him. Him and Jughead should be cracking jokes. Betty should be laughing at them while encouraging everyone to try her latest fruit crumble. Veronica should be there, taning under the sun with a ridiculous hat that did nothing to take away from her beauty. Chuck, Reggie, Moose, and the girls. Everyone.

They should be together.

Like old times.

It bothered Archie how much he missed everything.

Why did everyone have to change?

"Well, aren't you just a 'lil lone storm cloud?"

Jolted from his thoughts, Archie's eyes popped open to find Valerie smiling down at him, upside down. The sun hung from right behind her head, haloing her dark hair in bright radiance.

Okay, maybe he was going a little crazy.

"Wha-, Valerie?"

Chuckling, she walked around the bench and plopped down beside him on the bench. Unlike him, she was a little more dressed for the season: frayed jeans, flannel tied around her waist, and a simple halter top, exposing miles of dark skin. She . . .

She looked good.

"Long time no see, Arch." She nodded at his . . . everything. "Comfortable?"

At that, Archie scrambled to straighten himself, unable to control the sudden blush that probably lit up his entire body.

Smooth, Arch. Smooth.

"Uh, hey, Val. How have you been? I mean, how, how has the band been doing?"

She shrugged, settling back into the bench to make herself comfortable. "The Pussycats have been doing well, my friend. We're back in town for a short time. Plus, Josie's family is having some kind of family thing. She invited Melody and I to DJ the event. Should be fun."

Archie smiled, her obvious passion for music and her best friends infectious. "That's great. I'm really glad for you and the girls."

"How about you?" She asked, tilting her head. "Still balancing girls and football and music?"

Shaking his head, Archie looked away. Leaning forward, he dropped his chin in his hands, and smiled wistfully at the water. "Nah. Music has been more of a hobby for me anyway." Archie honestly couldn't remember the last time he picked up the guitar leaning against the corner of his bedroom. "And, you know, school is school."

"Let me guess, your counselor is already getting you stressed out about college?" Valerie gently nudged.

"To be honest, I haven't really been giving it much thought."

"Well then, what has been on your mind?"

Archie's knee jerk reaction was to respond with everything else. Jughead. Betty. Ronnie. How weird things are with everyone else. But even know, just thinking about it, it was exhausting. And seeing Valerie all confident and put together, it all felt like whining.

"Ah, well. You know. Just things."

"Things? Is it your time of the month, Arch?"

"Shut up," he groaned, but couldn't help laughing into his hands.

Valerie just smiled. Pushing herself up to her feet before offering him a hand. "Well then, in my experience, there isn't much that can't be cured with a milkshake from Pops. You in?"

Hell yes he was.

  
* * *

  
But like a cut down tree, I will rise again

And I'll be bigger and stronger than ever before

  
* * *

  
Ankle nestled in Jughead's hands, Betty attempted to beat Jughead's latest score on Tetris. His parents were out with Jellybean for the day, so they had the house to themselves, a fan by the window helping with the circulation, and Hotdog sound asleep by the television, tongue hanging between his teeth.

When Betty had dropped by earlier in the afternoon, Jughead had answered the door in his boxers, popsicle in one hand and a bag of apples in the other.

It only felt natural to make herself at home in his room, stripping down to her own underwear before dropping down on the end of his bed, grabbing the game console controller and restarting the level he was on.

No questions were asked as Jughead dropped back down in his bed, popsicle stick in mouth, content with watching her play. His bare leg nestled against her side, the delicate bones in his ankle near her elbow.

For a short while, her legs swung mindlessly in the air, her focus on the game. Jughead had left her alone while he worked on his first apple, then his second. When both cores found themselves in the trash bin beside his bed, his hand had reached out for her leg, long fingers sliding down until they wrapped firmly around her ankle.

Betty's last check up was months ago, and the doctor had declared her fully healed. There wasn't a lot to worry about. Sprains were normal. So few of them actually resulted in serious injury. But there were days, very few days, when a distant ache echoed between the bones. Her boyfriend had a habit of rubbing at the area whether there was pain or not. And . . .

And since the other night . . .

Well, touches during private moments? They were becoming more and more frequent.

It was like the floodgates had opened. Whenever they could, they just touched. Completely non-sexual from both of them. Instead of touches leading to other activities, it was just another part of the conversation. Nonverbally, they were learning more about each other: rediscovering who the other person was.

Because they knew each other. They knew their quirks, personalities, what they were like at school, with friends, with strangers.

Now, they were going to learn something new.

Jughead's fingers pressed around the bones of her ankle. Against the arch of her foot.

Betty's toes flexed unconsciously as she swiftly moved a piece across the screen.

"400 more points," she muttered.

"You don't even have that line completed yet, Sunshine. 430 points."

Betty completed a Tetris. Jughead groaned.

"100 more points~" she sang.

"Insufferable . . ."

Hotdog snuffed in his sleep, rolling over, belly up.

Tetris was the only video game that Betty excelled at. They both knew it.

It was still fun.

Jughead leaned forward and dropped a kiss by her ankle. "Let me do the next level."

"Slice me an apple and I'll think about it."

Betty could feel his grin against her skin.

It was a good Saturday.

* * *

 

[Word Count: 1856]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I FINALLY FUCKING SAW RIVERDALE. And it was kind of adorable? Very "MTV Teen Wolf" and I spent the first half of the season being annoyed by everyone, but I now 300000% ship Jughead/Betty/Veronica because that shit was beautiful.
> 
> My running commentary was pretty much:
> 
> -OMG what did they do to the Blossoms?
> 
> -UGH ARCHIE I WANTED TO LIKE YOU
> 
> -tHAT RED HAIR is sO FAKE
> 
> -Emo Jughead? Cute but don't know if I like (where is my beautiful glutton?!)
> 
> -PROTECT BETTY
> 
> -OMG what did they do to MOOSE?
> 
> -SUPER GAY FOR VERONICA
> 
> -WTF DID THEY DO TO MISS GRUNDY?!
> 
> -ARCHIE IS A LOST CAUSE
> 
> -*second hand embarrassment at every Archie performance (which I fast forwarded through)
> 
> -PROTECT JUGHEAD
> 
> -JUGHEAD/BETTY SCENES ON POINT
> 
> -WHAT DID THEY DO TO CHUCK?!
> 
> -Why is BETTY STILL IN PAIN?
> 
> -WHY diD THEy do thiS TO YOU, DiltON?
> 
> -VERONICA/BETTY SCENES ON POINT
> 
> So on and so forth. I was so pissed that they completely ruined all of my lovable parents (because what THE FUCK), and Archie finally grew on me near the end when he stopped focusing on himself. Cheryl was pretty bad ass, and I appreciated the show trying to make her more than just a cookie-cutter mean girl. All in all, not a horrible experience. Not a big fan of hollywood drying to make everything "dark," and I am honest when I say that I fast forwarded through a lot that didn't have Betty, Jughead, and/or Veronica in the scene.
> 
> Streaming media has spoiled me, and I have no patience.
> 
> Chapter 31-40 Song List (LOL I had to google the lyrics to the first half because I 10000% DID NOT REMEMBER, also, past me lacked some song choice creativity goddamn)
> 
> 31\. "Every Rose Has Its Thorn" - Poison
> 
> 32\. "Pretty Dress" - Rosie Thomas
> 
> 33\. "River" - Joni Mitchell
> 
> 34\. "My Way" - Calvin Harris
> 
> 35\. "Here I Dreamt I Was An Architect" - The Decemberists
> 
> 36\. "On Your Side" - The Veronicas
> 
> 37\. "Sexual" - Neiked
> 
> 38\. "First Heartbreak" - Tori Kelly
> 
> 39\. "May I Have This Dance" - Francis and the Lights (Ft. Chance the Rapper)
> 
> 40\. "The First Days of Spring" - Noah and the Whale


	41. Stable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everywhere I look are peoples' hands  
> Thrown up in the air to help them dance  
> Come on, baby catch me if you can  
> I know you don't have any other plans

A cool breeze filtered into Jughead's room, cool against Betty's exposed arms and legs. It was a welcome change from the heat of the day: another weekend with brutal temperatures and record-breaking heat indexes. It was getting to the point that everyone (especially her, with her fair skin) had to stop every other hour just to reapply sun protectant.

By the end of the day, everyone was about as greasy as a seal . . . and smelled like a trip to the beach . . . which wouldn't be as annoying if they were actually at the beach, and not trapped in a classroom.

Senioritis was becoming a Riverdale-wide epidemic, even for non-seniors.

Closing her eyes, Betty settled further into the back of Jughead's computer seat, arms crossed over the back support as she straddled the chair backwards. Her naked toes had found the edge of the carpeting, finding just a little bit of relief against the hardwood flooring of her boyfriend's bedroom.

The sun was slowly beginning its descent to the horizon, but provided enough light to cast everything in an inviting glow. Perfect beach time, and Betty could imagine the crowds currently soaking up the rays along the sands. The girls were probably there, breaking out the newest bikini's and getting their summer tan's started.

Veronica's complexion was always a lovely sun-kissed tone, and Betty allowed herself to feel just the slightest bit of jealousy since her own skin was much more prone to burning and freckling.

Veronica was indeed blessed.

And if she was at the beach? Chances were that the rest of the boys were at the beach, too. Probably tripping over themselves for a chance to apply sunscreen to Ronnie's back.

A sheet of paper rustled behind her, and Betty glanced back to make sure that the wind hadn't disturbed the materials on Jughead's desk. Satisfied that everything was still in place, she turned back around and settled, this time, eyes focusing on Jughead. The boy in question was reclined in his bed, an opened bag of Twizzlers on his chest, half of one sticking out the side of his mouth. His half-lidded eyes were perusing the pages of an out-of-date atlas he had found in Jellybean's room, perfectly content to lay shirtless as he tilted the pages from one side to another.

Betty was not ashamed to note that the two of them had sort of become shut-ins as of late. Their friends didn't even bother looking disappointed or bothered when either of them waved off invitations to the beach or the arcade. Though . . . to be honest, they did throw them different types of looks. Like the two of them were getting lucky whenever they were alone together. After all, her friends were hardly subtle in their inquiries about dates or possible over-night sleepovers.

She couldn't even imagine what the questions were like for Jughead.

Jughead shoved another Twizzler in his mouth, absentmindedly scratching his collarbone.

Though, if the questions did bother him, it wasn't enough to change this.

It had been a week.

It had been a week since they had sex.

And it was sex even though they didn't go all-the-way.

Betty wrinkled her nose. Even in her head it sounded juvenile.

But . . . it felt real. Special in a way that nothing in the past ever did.

Sure he had fooled around with Archie and some of her, admittedly, few boyfriends in the past . . and true, she never really got as far as oral sex. But nothing in the past-not even being the center of Archie Andrews' attention-felt as profound as sharing the same breathing space with Jughead Jones.

And they didn't even do much.

After her toe-curling orgasm, and sucking the taste of herself from Jughead's tongue, the two of them had simply explored. Jughead had insisted that he didn't need her to reciprocate, which left Betty boneless and satisfied on the covers of the bed with miles upon miles of skin for Jughead to just touch. It had to have been hours of the two of them half naked on the wrinkled comforter, trading kisses, and skimming palms and fingertips everywhere.

Betty pressed herself against the back of the computer chair as she relived the memory. She felt warm and loose-limbed just thinking about it.

Sitting up, Jughead leaned over to grab the discarded protractor buried in the folds of the bedsheets, pulling the felt-tip pen that was behind his ear to make long, sloping lines across a huge swath of blue. Betty scooted her chair a little further towards the bed, trying to get a glimpse of his work. A glistening red line shone under the light as it dried, connecting MIT and the University of Oxford. Above the line, Juggie had written 3,219 in his usual chicken scratch.

"According to Google, the distance between our campuses is 3,219 miles, give or take a few." Jughead capped his pen. "If the oceans dry up and global warming wreaks havoc on the planet, that would be a pleasant five day drive."

Betty arched an eyebrow as she watched Jughead get up to pin the open atlas to his bedroom wall with binder clips and thumbtacks. "So, if colleges were still running in this hypothetical apocalypse?"

"Eh, give or take a few hours. I'm sure the terrain under a recently dried up ocean would be pretty challenging to navigate."

Betty shook her head, amused by how utterly ridiculous Jughead was as she climbed off of the chair and curled up on her side on the vacated bed. "As lovely as a scenic five day drive through an oceanic graveyard sounds, how about a slightly uncomfortable six to seven hour flight in a non-apocalyptic future?"

Stepping away from his map, Jughead turned and grinned at her, half a Twizzler sticking out of his mouth like a neon-red cigar. "More plausible, but significantly less fun, Sunshine. Where is your sense of adventure?"

Betty stuck her tongue out. "I'm going to be attend Oxford University. That's already an adventure. And I don't know about you, but when we are traveling to visit, I want the journey to be as short as possible."

Jughead's grin morphed into a much more affectionate smile, finishing off his snack before making his way back to bed, sliding in so that he was lying on his side, facing her. Their limbs automatically slotted together while his hand slid wide from her hip, up to her lower back, settling a pleasant band of warmth under her crop top. "Ugh, Oxford. How dare they take you away from me."

Snorting, Betty brought her hand up to brush her fingers through his bangs, pushing back to luxuriate in his silky hair. "That's still a few months away . . . And we'll make an effort to visit when we can."

Jughead's thumb traced soft patterns near her belly button. "Yeah, I know. Flights are expensive though. And whatever paltry amount of food the college meal plan is, I'll probably be spending most of my money on food and saving for tickets." His eyes slid up in thought. "Though, the other day, Coach Kleats was boasting to some of the guys that he was able to fly home as a college student for free his entire four years. Something about always volunteering to give up his seat on overbooked flights. Airlines are apparently good about making it up to people they disadvantage."

"Juggie. You plan on taking advantage of the system?" She wrinkled her nose in feigned distaste.

"Hey," he slid closer, and dropped a kiss on the tip of her nose. "Anything to see my girl."

Which just wasn't fair. Betty felt like she was melting from the inside out, and couldn't resist leaning forward to take a kiss from Jughead. And that's exactly what it was: a taking. For weeks they have been exploring all kinds of kisses, each one just as precious as the last, and between the two of them, they were unofficially cataloging a plethora of varieties. Chaste kisses, and kisses that were more of a brush of lips, sharing each other's breaths as they paused before moving. French kisses, and kisses that traveled every else, from eyes to hair line, to fingertips and toes. There were kisses from Jughead. Kisses from Betty. Kisses that were offered freely. Kisses without thought.

And there were kisses that were taken.

Betty's favorite, to be honest, where she could push herself into Jughead's space, spread her fingers wide along his neck, cheek, and the base of his skull, angle him to where she wanted him, and pulling hot kisses from his lips.

These were the only kisses where her boyfriend went lax, offering up anything she wanted without a fight, which was deliciously empowering. Jughead was a lovable lazy-bum, but he was still taller than her, stronger, more solid in a way that she could never physically be. For Betty, small, careful, and demanding, this was just her favorite.

Feeling Jughead moan beneath her, she knew that he liked them just as much.

Breaking the kiss with a short giggle, Betty pulled away just enough to knock his nose with hers before settling on his pillow. "Very romantic. But, Skype and video chatting is a much more sensible solution."

Jughead frowned. "I can't touch you through Skype."

Betty shelved that thought for later, willing away her blush. "Be that as it may, I can't afford to fly back and forth across the Atlantic Ocean every time I want to see you. Like you said, we'll be your typical poor, broke college students."

"Hmm," Jughead's eyes trailed to the side in thought, his fingers tracing along the small of her back. "That is a conundrum. But, it's one I'm confident I can overcome. I mean, it's MIT. It should be short work for me to create some kind of communication device that allows more than two senses. I've already got some ideas."

Which was probably the dorkiest, and most adorable thing Betty had ever heard. "What, like, a virtual reality teleconference?"

"Hardly anything as futuristic, though, that's not a bad goal to shoot for."

Betty laughed hiding her face in Jughead's shoulder.

"Actually, Reggie had us over at his place a few months back. Couldn't wait to show off his new VR game system. Came with a headset, isolation headphones, and these gloves that all integrated with the game to simulate an interactive world. He had the whole thing set up in this room so that the temperature and breeze could be regulated to the game. You could see, smell, hear, and touch pretty much everything."

"That . . . actually sounds really cool." Betty agreed. "But it probably costs as much as fifty airplane tickets."

"True, but I believe I can replicate it. Or at least MacGyver it. I mean, it's MIT. The least they can do is use their million dollar facilities to aid in my long-distance relationship."

"Oh my God. Can you imagine writing your final thesis on this? 'Virtual Reality and Long Distance Relationships: Next Generation Phone Sex.'"

Jughead grinned and made exaggerated efforts to look for a notepad. "Eureka! Get me a notepad, I have to write this down."

"Don't you dare!" Betty laughed, wrapping her arms around Jughead's torso as she pinned him down to the bed with her body. Jughead could easily dislodge her, but he seemed content with their positions and settled his arms around her shoulders. After a short while, he moved one arm over to pull another Twizzler from the pack, the flex of muscles barely displacing her while she felt him move.

Propping herself up, she rested her chin on her hands. "So."

Jughead arched an eyebrow, two strips of licorice hanging from his lips. "So?"

"I just wanted it clearly stated that I like it when you touch me."

He smiled. "Noted."

"I also like it when you give me orgasms."

His smile stretched into a proud grin. "Also noted."

Betty rolled her eyes, but figured he had every right to his pride. "So, what about you? I mean, you seem to enjoy yourself when we are together, so I'm sure you like touching me, but," Betty stopped herself from saying something crass like, I haven't had my hands on your dick, "I don't think you've exactly orgasmed."

Jughead nodded, Twizzlers swinging in the air. "Yup."

Conversation lately was so much easier. Betty felt completely comfortable asking and saying almost anything relating to their relationship: sexual or not. It helped that Jughead never made her feel stupid about what she asked. He always seriously considered his answers before responding, and now, more than ever, Betty truly felt like she knew Jughead better.

But, this . . . this was a little more delicate, and Betty considered her own hesitation. "Do . . . do you want to talk about it, a little? Just-, just to see if it's something I'm doing, or not doing?"

Jughead surprised her by responding pretty quickly, bringing his arm back down to rest at the arch of her lower back. "Nope. You aren't doing anything wrong. I've been kind of checking off a mental list of things that I do like, and the list is getting pretty long." His long fingers slipped under the hem of her shirt. "I don't like touching people much, but I love touching you. I like how you move and respond to my touch. I like the sounds you make. I like kissing you." He paused. "I like eating you out."

Blushing, Betty dropped her face into his chest, hiding her embarrassment and joy. "Oh my God."

Jughead's grin colored the rest of his words. "I'm pretty sure that I'm going to find even more things I like doing with you and to you. I like that your reactions to me have been honest. I like that it always feels like you can't get enough." He shifted under her just a little, bringing his leg just a little more snug against the junction between her thighs.

"I'm addicted to your orgasms, Bets. I like how you smell and taste and feel against my tongue. That's . . . that's kind of the best part for me. My favorite."

Betty tightened her thighs around his leg, enjoying the warm pressure of his body against her and the simmering heat in her naval. Turning her head, she considered his words, her lips brushing a light trail against his chest, breath warming his nipple. Each of his breaths was a steady rhythm against her head.

Jughead sounded happy, content. What they did was obviously satisfying what ever physical need he craved from their relationship. She knew that she was getting the type of physical and emotional connection that never existed in another relationship.

Not even with Archie.

They were happy. And if needs changed, Betty was confident that they would be able to talk about those needs and how to move forward.

She wondered why she was so hesitant before.

"This is so much better than the beach," Jughead sighed.

Betty agreed wholeheartedly.

* * *

[Word Count: 2,502]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK. NaNoWriMo is in just a few short weeks. I have some ideas for what my writing project for the month will be.
> 
> To make it happen, this fic MUST BE FINISHED before October is over. I'm giving myself a deadline, so if there multiple chapter uploads one weekend? Consider it an early Holiday gift.


	42. Strange

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Climbing up the tower  
> Just a boy and his computer  
> I’m still in my bathrobe  
> Hiding in the shadows  
> I’m not used to losing  
> Bye, bye, sugar blue eyes

Parked at the refreshment table, Jughead worked on a slice of pizza, head bobbing along with the music. With the end of the school year coming up, and consequently, the end of the high school careers for most of the gang,  Josie and her band had offered to throw a mini concert for their closest friends. A last hurrah before they all officially became adults.

 

As expected, everyone was pretty excited about it, quickly getting with the band to display their enthusiasm and desire to help put the event together. A huge group of them had convened at Pops’ loud with their plans. The girls had immediately started divvying up jobs, putting people in charge of decorations, seating, music, and--most importantly--food.

 

Finishing with his latest order of burgers, Pops himself walked up to them, apron gloriously anointed with various condiments. “Just have the concert at the diner. Half of you ingrates already have an ongoing tab here anyway,” a pointed look was thrown at Jughead, who proudly grinned at the attention. “We can do burgers and pizzas, and you can do what you want with the layout.” Pops crossed his arms and wrinkled his eyebrows in an attempt to look stern. “But I will only do this if you also agree to be the clean-up crew. I can close the diner for a private event at night, but I still have a business in the morning.”

 

Having the venue at Pops  _ alone  _ was enough to convince Jughead to attend. Pizza, burgers, and pretty good music in one night? He was  _ so there. _

 

“That is not a problem, Pops,” Veronica puffed out her chest, one hand fluffing her hair while the other was slung around Betty, the two best friends pretty much attached at the hip since planning started. “Daddy will be more than happy to foot the bill for this lovely soiree, so we will make sure to provide you with enough funds to feed everyone in attendance,  _ plus _ ensure that the boys will be well-fed enough to be the clean-up crew.”

 

Betty hid her giggles in Veronica’s shoulder, sneaking Jughead a smile filled with affection.

 

Jughead had rolled his eyes at her but couldn’t help but smile back.  _ Of course _ the men would be volun-told to clean up. Which seemed fair considering . . .

 

Taking a moment to look around Pop’s Dinner, the entire restaurant looked completely transformed. Balloons and paper streamers framed the dining area and the makeshift dance floor. A lone disco ball unearthed from Cheryl’s closet was glittering in the middle of the ceiling, making the dancers and the band sparkle as the light bounced everywhere.

 

Josie and the Pussycats were currently rocking their way through their discography, bringing up some of their greatest hits, which,  _ of course _ , was turning the dance floor into the busiest part of the diner. Despite the concert being a closed venue, the building felt completely packed as a bunch of teens danced, jumped, and screamed along with the lyrics.

 

Betty was somewhere in there, constantly surrounded and pulled along by her friends. Which was probably just a little bit warranted. If Jughead were any other man, he would probably feel a little bit of shame for taking up most of Betty’s free time the past few weeks.

 

He smirked around a sip of coke. Guilt was pretty much the  _ last thing he felt. _

 

“Hey, man!” Reggie stopped right next to him, hair slicked back with hair product and sweat while he reached for a bottle of water. Uncharacteristically, he looked completely at ease, obviously enjoying himself and lacking any of the prideful posturing he always seemed to cloak himself. “Figured you would be parking yourself here. Not planning on giving Pops a break, eh?”

 

Both men looked up to see Pops artfully throwing together a milkshake, bopping along with the music while he made conversation with Moose and Midge. The chef had switched out his usual white apron and button down for a black ensemble: black apron (already stained with drying ice cream and mustard) and a long sleeved black button down rolled up to his elbows. A white tie brought everything together, and he looked pretty snazzy if Jughead did think so himself.

 

He grabbed a fistful of french fries. “I offered to help Pops behind the grill but he waved me off and told me to go wild ‘like the rest of my peers.’ So I have his blessings to do my thing.” He punctuated his statement by promptly shoving all the fries in his mouth, pleased by the obvious disgust that swept Reggie’s face.

 

“Ugh. What Betty sees in you, I’ll never understand.”

 

Which was just fine with Jughead as far as he was concerned.

 

Opting to ignore his quasi-friend, Jughead started refreshing the pile of pizza and marinara sauce on his plate. I was probably about time for him to find a booth to relax in before Betty inevitably dragged him out to the dance floor. 

 

The girls had all unanimously decided that this was a non-formal event, but it didn’t stop them all from bringing out their glitter-wear. In his opinion, Veronica and Cheryl’s dresses looked better suited for a jazz lounge with their lack of shoulder straps and plunging necklines. But Betty was a real nice sight: a baby-blue sequined top that hung off her shoulders and a pair of tight jeans tucked in cowgirl boots. She left her hair down tonight, fully prepared to rock her heart out without a care in the world.

 

He really wouldn’t mind suffering a few dances with her, soft blond locks against his cheek, and her arms tight around him. Nah, he wouldn’t mind that at all.

 

“Speaking of,” Reggie straightened the collar of his polo and grabbed Jughead by the arm.

 

Shocked--and frankly, disgusted--that he was being pulled away from the food, Jughead struggled as he was dragged into one of the far corner booths, his plate tragically only half filled. “What the hell, man?”

 

Reggie ignored Jughead’s indignation, clearly on a mission as he sat back and pinned Jughead in place with a frown. “We need a quick man-to-man talk.”

 

“I hardly think that the maturity levels between the two of us even makes up  _ half a man, you dolt _ . What the hell?”

 

“Shut up, and hear me out. This will take ten seconds.”

 

Ten seconds too long, but Jughead was willing to get this over with. “What.”

 

Reggie leaned forward, oddly serious as he tapped his finger against Jughead’s arm. “I’m glad that you and Betty seem to be having a good ‘ole time, and to be honest, no one understands why she is even bothering with you.”

 

“Now, see-”

 

“But she is happy, and that’s enough for now.”

 

“For n-”

 

“But if you break her heart? Or if she comes to Reggie crying about how you hurt her? I’m gonna have to pound you, you hear?”

 

Jughead blinked, brain completely derailed by the very unexpected turn in conversation. “Wait, what? Are you- are you defending Betty’s  _ honor _ ?”

 

Reggie shrugged, leaning back and crossing his arms, muscles bulging just a little in the little sleeves of his shirt. “Just doing what I can to make sure Betty is happy. She’s my friend, and why I did carry a flame for her way back when, I still want to make sure that she is treated well by the men in her life. Gotta responsibility for the ladies, you know?”

 

“How very touching.” Jughead frowned. “Were you in fact raised by cavemen?”

 

Reggie pointed at him again before sliding back out of the booth. “You’ve been warned, needle nose.” And then, he swaggered away, aiming for a group of girls dancing in a tight circle near the dance floor.

 

Jughead blinked after him.

 

Did somebody slip something in the kool aid?

 

“What was that about?” Dilton asked him, sliding in the seat that Reggie just vacated, sipping at the small milkshake in his hand.

 

“I think I just got the ‘boyfriend talk’ from Reggie.” Jughead turned to his friend, still completely bewildered. “He threatened to clock me if I broke Betty’s heart.”

 

Dilton perked up, dropping the straw from his lips. “Oh good. So there is no need for an awkward transition.”

 

“What?”

 

“I guess you could say that I am here in relation to the same topic that Reggie just broached with you.”

 

Jughead’s mouth dropped. Was he serious? “Are you serious?”

 

“Betty is a swell gal, Jughead. I mean, you are dating her. You should know this.”

 

Fuck it. Was there something  _ in the air?? _

 

“And if anyone in our graduating class is going to succeed beyond Riverdale, Betty Cooper is going to do it, and she deserves every success and happiness coming her way.”

 

Still gobsmacked, Jughead just nodded.

 

“And it’s obvious that she is happy with you, so I just wanted to remind you that if you do break her heart, Betty is the type to let it derail her for a little bit. And she doesn’t deserve that, right?”

 

He nodded again.

 

“Marvelous. So it should go without saying that if you do anything to compromise her happiness or wellbeing, you shouldn’t be surprised if you happen to wake up one day to find your credit history destroyed beyond repair. Things like that are hard to come back from, you know.”

 

This was the weirdest night  _ ever _ . And his uncle was a mad scientist who frequently used him as a guinea pig. Jughead managed to swallow past his dry throat. “R-right.”

 

“Fantastic.” Dilton threw him the biggest smile and patted Jughead solidly on the shoulder. “Enjoy the rest of your night, Jughead. I’ll probably see you by the pizza later.”

 

And he was off.

 

Brain filled with confusing static, Jughead polished off the rest of his plate on autopilot. Did Dilton and Reggie just pull the whole “threaten the boyfriend” routine? Together? Did they plan this? Was it some kind of prank?

 

Shaking his head, he started to make his way back to the food when a body covered in glitter barreled into him, shoving him back into the far corner of the booth. Veronica Lodge flashed all of her teeth at him while Cheryl Blossom slid elegantly into the seat across from them.

 

Jughead had a pretty good feeling on what was about to happen. “Now, wait a sec-”

 

“Now, now, Juggiekins!” Veronica interrupted, wagging a finger in front of his nose. “Didn’t you ever learn, ladies first?”

 

He wanted to bite her.

 

“My, my,” Cheryl mocked. “To think that you lack such basic etiquette! How can we even be sure that he’s treating our dear friend Betty right, Miss Lodge?”

 

“My concerns, exactly, Miss Blossom. After all, Betty deserves the  _ best boyfriend _ , and what kinds of friends would we be if we didn’t vet the very man who seems to have her heart?”

 

Jughead was hit by a wave of exhaustion. “What is this, ‘Pride and Prejudice: Riverdale edition?’”

 

“Ooo! I actually liked that book,” Cheryl chipped in.

 

“This is serious, Forsythe Jones.” Veronica tutted.

 

“Don’t call me that.”

 

Cheryl tossed her head back, sending a wave of red hair over her bare shoulder. “You better check that attitude, mister. We are exercising our right as Betty’s friend to make sure that whatever sad sap she deems worthy of her affections is completely aware that they are  _ unworthy _ .”

 

“And damn lucky to call Betty Cooper his girlfriend.” Veronica ended, narrowing her eyes at him.

 

Jughead just glanced forlornly down at his empty plate and cup. He never imagined he would be interested in drinking, but tonight . . .

 

Veronica’s shoulder softened as she nudged it against Jughead’s. “But, I think you already know that Betty is too good for you.”

 

He rolled his eyes before pinning the brunette with a look of his own. “I must learn to be content with being happier than I deserve.”

 

Veronica threw him a look of pure confusion while Cheryl literally squealed.

 

“Uh, you and Betty are such nerds,” Ronnie sighed, adjusting her dress. “I don’t know why I even bother.”

 

Which was a merciful way to end that exchange. Jughead was very relieved to watch both ladies take their leave, finally giving him the chance to make a quick beeline back to the food. Ignoring Pops as he chuckled near the sink, obviously enjoying the whole mortifying show, Jughead took the opportunity to place any many pizza slices, sliders, fries, and mozzarella sticks on his plate. Foregoing the ladle, he simply dipped his plastic cup into the punch bowl, quickly emptying the cup before refilling it in the same fashion.

 

Pops burst out laughing.

 

Jughead just glared at him. Or, at least he was attempting to before an arm was slung over his shoulder. Chuck pressed himself into Jughead’s left side, leaving Nancy to cozy up to his right.

 

Trapped like a rat.

 

And completely  _ over it _ .

 

Jughead glared between the two of them. “Now, this is getting ridiculous. You guys are all my friends, too! I don’t see a single one of you cornering Betty to protect my virtue and happiness!”

 

Pops began laughing so hard, he was practically doubled over against the counter.

 

Chuck tried pulling on an innocent look. “I don’t know what you mean, buddy.”

 

“Oh, so we aren’t the first of the night, then.” Nancy chipped in, pecking Jughead on the cheek before grabbing a mozzarella stick off the table. “Who cornered you before us?”

 

“Reggie started this whole fiasco. Then Dilton and the freaking Bennet sisters.”

 

_ Bennet sisters? _ Chuck mouthed to Nancy in confusion. She waved him off behind Jughead’s back. “Veronica and Cheryl double teamed you? I wish I saw that.”

 

“I wish you didn’t use the term _ ‘double team’  _ in reference to the two of them and myself.”

 

Laughing, Chuck offered Jughead one last solid squeeze and released him, slipping over to his girlfriend. “Come on, babe. I think he’s been traumatized enough.”

 

“A conspiracy . . .” Jughead snarled, downing his punch one more time before refilling it and marching back to his booth. Unless the next person to approach him was Betty, he did not want to speak to any more of his  _ stupid, so-called friends _ .

 

Stacking two slices of pepperoni pizzas on top of each other, Jughead took a huge, therapeutic bite of meat, cheese, and bread.

 

Pop’s laughter and long since died down and things had simmer back into the comforting sounds of music, dancing, laughter, and people leaving Jughead Jones in peace.

 

“Hey, buddy. Mind if I take a load off?”

 

It took some effort, but Jughead was able to keep a straight face as he glanced up to see Archie Andrews standing beside him, forehead covered in sweat, hair tousled, and guitar strapped to his chest.

 

Since the planning of the concert and tonight, Jughead couldn’t help but be low-key aware of Archie’s presence. It had honestly been weeks since the two of them were in the same space, and while the two of them had ended on a very flat note, Jughead couldn’t help but sometimes miss his best friend. For the past few days, they were orbiting around each other without really making any contact. Even Betty was able to make small talk with Archie, asking how he was doing, and what his plans were for the summer.

 

It was through her that Jughead even knew that Archie was going to be playing with The Pussycats. And that he was currently  _ talking _ with Valerie.

 

And if Jughead still knew Archie Andrews? It meant that he was doing better.

 

Jughead took a sip of his drink, feeling himself relax into his seat. “Sure thing, Arch. Join me in my solitude.”

 

Chuckling, Archie rubbed the back of his neck before pulling the guitar off is back and sliding it in the seat with him.

 

“Nice to see you playing again, Arch.” Jughead started.

 

Archie rolled his eyes. “You haven’t been watching the stage at all.”

 

“True, but you are obviously in your element.”

 

The redhead smiled at the compliment, taking the olive branch for what it was. “Thanks. Music . . . and, you know, hanging with the band has been good for me. It’s been a fun night.”

 

“I wouldn’t know,” Jughead groaned.

 

“Yeah, so I’ve seen.” Archie grinned. He paused for a moment, looking down at his fingers before looking back up. “You know, it’s a pretty good sign. You and Betts have been good enough together that people are starting to worry about her wellbeing.”

 

“It’s ridiculous,” he scoffed.

 

“Well, I never got that far into the relationship.” Archie offered, his smile a little sad but no less genuine. “Looks like, as annoying as our friends are, they seem to know us better than we would like.”

 

Jughead paused, processing Archie’s statement before he smiled back. “Glad to have you back, buddy.” Reaching out, he gripped Archie’s hand in a firm handshake which quickly devolved into one of their complicated handshakes . . . like no time has passed at all. “Was worried that I was going to suffer the next episode of Dr. What’sit alone this week.”

 

“Are you kidding, man?” Archie reached into his back pocket to pull out his phone, quickly flipping to his note app. “I’ve been writing down so much shit. Like, what’s up with this new companion?”

 

“You got me, Arch. The last episode was literally painful to watch. There is a literal  _ formula _ . Why can’t the director just freaking  _ follow it _ .”

 

Pops looked up from wiping out a clean sundae glass, smiling at the sight of his two best customers laughing. He hadn’t had this much fun in years. Maybe he needed to have The Pussycats play there more often.

* * *

 

[Word Count: 2949]

AN: This was supposed to be a short chapter (lol). I’ll be home this weekend visiting family, so apart from dealing with their drama and taking them to the state fair, I hope to have some time to get the next chapter out. If not, then expect something on Monday since I’m taking a much needed mental health day from work <3

 

Cheers.

Ao3: 1sleepydormouse (alderbee)

Tumblr handle: 1sleepydormouse

Instagram: @pepper_sauce


	43. Summer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You've got it all worked out with so little time  
> Memories that I'd blackout if you were mine  
> You've got a pocket full of reasons why you're here tonight  
> So, baby, tonight just be the death of me

Snagging a piece of tape, Betty sealed her envelope and flipped it over, her eyes skimming over Chic’s address to make sure it was correct. Once satisfied, she affixed a stamp in the top corner, making sure to pick the gaudiest design she could find (this month was a picture of a grumpy cat on a surfboard).

 

Chic always made fun of her, griping about how his youngest sister still insisted on sending handwritten letters when email was faster and so much more effective. But Betty knew that her brother secretly enjoyed getting something in the mail that wasn’t a bill or a bomb (not that Betty liked to think on it very hard. What exactly did secret agents of the government get in the mail anyway? Blue Apron orders?)

 

It didn’t happen often, but a few times a year, Betty made a concerted effort to send her older siblings a letter. Cute stationery, fun pens, and little doodles that she could frame her words in and send off. She liked email and texts as much as the next girl, but, well, she still wrote in a diary! There was nothing more intimate and real, than writing things down on paper. It’s what made her Betty Cooper.

 

It’s how she shows she cares.

 

So she sends Chic and Polly letters in the snail-mail: one to New York City, and the other destined for San Francisco.

 

Letters to Chic tended to be fun. Inside jokes, jabs at what he must really be doing as a secret agent ( _“I bet you’re, like, babysitting the president’s daughter, right?” “Oh, man, Bets. This isn’t The Pacifier, give me a break. And he’s an ex-marine in that movie!”_ ), and just little stories about her life. Knowing how over-protective he could be, Betty had told him that she was dating someone, but held back exactly _who_ she was seeing. Though . . . when the two of them spoke over chat the other day, Chic just seemed relieved that it wasn’t Archie Andrews any more.

 

Now, letters to Polly?

 

Betty pulled out a fresh sheet of stationery paper, framed in summer bouquets. Cracking her knuckles, she pressed the tip of her felt-tip pen down and began to really tell her story.

 

* * *

Hey, Sis <3

 

Hope this letter finds you well in the land of never-setting sunshine! It was great to talk to you on the phone last weekend. That story you are doing with the news station on the gentrification of San Francisco neighborhoods seems really timely: the station would be _insane_ to not let it get on the air.

 

You sounded a little worried that the execs wouldn’t support it, but I know that with the voices supporting you from the affected neighborhoods, you will really make a great story come to light!

 

Things here have been moving so fast lately.

 

Graduation is literally a few weeks away, and the whole gang is completely excited and terrified in equal measures. Veronica less so, since she has always planned on taking over her dad’s business when he retires. She hasn’t told us yet what business school she is going to, but I think Mr. Lodge said something offhandedly about Wharton or Harvard.

 

I know. _Rich people._

 

Ethel is going to be heading to Georgia to attend the Savannah College of the Arts! I’m so happy for her, and I can’t wait for her to eventually have her own art studio! She has already promised me that I would get one of the very first Ethel-Originals, so you better be ready to interview her in a few years when she has art galleries all over the east and west coasts.

 

Everyone seems to already have their post-high school plans made up.

 

* * *

Betty paused, looking nibbling on the end of her pen.

* * *

 

Well, almost everyone. I know you are sick and tired of hearing about him, and in my defense, since I started dating Juggie, I haven’t really mentioned him often, but I’m a little worried about Archie.

 

He’s been doing better lately. Him and Juggie are actually talking and hanging out again, and while they aren’t back to their best-buddies status (and to be honest, I’m not sure if they will ever get back to that), they do spend time together. Archie has actually been spending a lot of time with Valerie. You remember her? She’s the bassist and songwriter for Josie and the Pussycats. Her and Archie are actually going steady!

 

And they have been so good for eachother! Archie has really mellowed out, and finally seems to be enjoying life again.

 

But, he’s still _Archie_ you know? Just a little bit immature, and--as I’m sure you are not surprised--he’s the only one that doesn’t seem to have college plans after he graduates.

 

I know. I know! College isn’t for everyone. And maybe it isn’t for Archie, but he doesn’t seem stressed AT ALL. He told Jughead that he was going to take a year off and maybe be a roadie for Josie and the Pussycats. Which is weird right?

 

I mean, I’m super glad that he’s happy with Valerie, but is he just throwing everything else away to stay with her?

 

* * *

Looking at the last few sentences, Betty couldn’t help but feel a little bit sad. And maybe . . . a little bit hypocritical.

* * *

 

But, you know? I think more than anything, it’s probably one of the bravest things you can do.

 

I’m so scared, Polly.

 

There are so many opportunities coming up for me. I mean, I’m going to be at Oxford. I’ll be attending clubs, and writing, and joining internships with so many interesting people. I’ll be able to find a job wherever I want after I graduate. I’m going to make so many new friends.

 

But I want Jughead there, too.

 

I wake up sometimes and think, “Jughead should just come with me to Oxford. He can figure out something else. He’s so _smart_.” And there are other nights, I wake up thinking that maybe Oxford isn’t really worth it. There are so many other great colleges in Massachusetts or other close by states. I don’t need to go to the UK for my college experience.

 

Polly.

 

I’m not even gone yet, and I already miss him so much.

 

* * *

Shutting her eyes, Betty had to pause, giving herself some time to recover. Writing it down on paper. Writing it down for Polly to _read_ just made it feel so real again. She brought the palms of her hands up and pressed them against her eyes, stars and streaks of neon lightning flashing behind her eyelids.

 

Betty took a few deep breaths then straightened her back.

 

She picked up her pen.

* * *

 

But at the same time . . . I know that Juggie and I will be stronger for this, Polly. I know the statistics. High school sweethearts don’t last, and long distance relationships are hard, especially during college.

 

And I know this is stupid. Feel free to yell at me and call me stupid. Blame youth.

 

But, Jughead is it for me.

 

I’ve known him for practically my whole life, and I know that we haven’t even been dating for a full year yet, but I love him.

 

I love Jughead Jones.

 

* * *

Betty just wanted to write it over and over. Fill so many pages with lines of her declaration.

* * *

 

I can see myself marrying him one day. I can see us moving into a crappy first apartment where we have to take showers at 3 in the morning because that’s the only time we can get the water heater to work properly, and he has to fix our drafty windows all the time, and the air doesn’t work in the summer. I can see us owning a lazy dog that Jughead spoils rotten. I want him there when I walk across the stage with my Bachelors Degree, and Masters Degree, and Doctorate. I want to hold his hand while he pretends not to cry when Jellybean graduates from high school.

 

I love him so much.

 

And MIT is perfect for him. Just like how Oxford is perfect for me.

 

You should hear him, Polly. He has so many grand plans on keeping contact throughout our four years. Some of them are like the superpowers he pulls straight out of his comic books. He, he makes it so matter of fact that the next four years will be just like high school, and that we’ll come out together in the end.

 

If you could see his face, you’d see just how much he believes it.

 

So, yeah. Wow, I can’t believe I’m writing this, but I love him so much and I want you to know because you are probably one of the most important people in the world to me.

 

Jughead is it.

 

Hahaha! And you are going to think this is great, but I’m pretty sure that our friends maybe think it too? It’s been completely orchestrated by Veronica and Cheryl, but our friends have been making fun of us for WEEKS. They’ve been picking on poor Juggie about “treating me right” and “not breaking my heart” while the girls have been giving me _SEX TIPS._ Nancy nearly died laughing when she said that I should wear a burger costume as lingerie.

 

I don’t know why I even try with these people.

 

Well, I know we have a chat scheduled for later this week, but I just wanted to get this all down. I don’t know if you’ll get this letter before our chat, but it feels good to have this down on paper. Heck, I haven’t even talked to Mom and Dad about it!

 

Like they say, a day at a time!

 

I miss you, sis. Excited for my trip out there next month!

  
Love,

Betty

* * *

 

[Word Count: 1629]

AN: A fun short chapter :-) I will provide a warning at the beginning of Chapter 44, but there will be sex and fluff to be prepared. My sister and I got Voltron Season 4 out of our system (SO MANY EMOTIONS), so I’m finally back in the writing groove.

Tumblr handle: 1sleepydormouse

Instagram: @pepper_sauce


	44. Taboo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We were messin' around  
> We could hardly breathe  
> Breakin' new ground in my back seat  
> We had our foot on the gas  
> Goin' nowhere fast

[Author Warning - Ahead: bathtub sex, hand-jobs, fingering, penetration sex, oral sex, feelings, just a little more descriptive than previous sex chapter. Only read as far as the [ *//*//* ] if you want to skip the other bits.]

 

“Ooo, this is a good one.”

 

Jughead looked up from his doodle.

 

“ _Pilnuj swoich spraw._ Just rolls off the tongue, right?”

 

“I dare you to say that again without pausing halfway through that sixth word.”

 

Laughing, Betty flicked her toes, which were conveniently near his arm to splash warm water on him in retaliation. “While I appreciate your confidence in my genius, it does take me longer than three months to learn a new language.”

 

Jughead grinned, lifting his arm out of the bath water to pin the offending limb in his armpit. “Whatever you say, babe. Now what does it mean?”

 

“Well, for your _information_ , it was just four words. And it means ‘mind your own business,’ which I really hope I don’t have to use often.”

 

“You think you are going to use _Polish_ often?”

 

“Well, according to Blue Guides, Polish is the second most spoken language in the UK. I’ll probably come across someone who speaks it, just as often as we come across Spanish-speaking people here in the U.S.”

 

Jughead refocused on his sketch, finishing up his latest Dipsy Doodle before flipping the page back to his unfinished Betty Cooper portrait. Looking back up, he made note of the slope of her neck, shoulders, and arms. His girlfriend was currently comfortably reclined against the opposite end of the tub, hair gathered at the top of her head in an artfully messy bun, squinting at her Polish language book through her glasses. The tops of his knees neatly framed her, and he luxuriated in feeling her thighs snug against his ankles. He got to work sketching out her arms. “If that’s the case, then it will be crucial for you to get that down pat before you go there. Polish restaurants mean eating the food of Polish grandmothers. And Polish grandmothers are puddy for endearing women who can complement them in their native tongue.”

 

“Priorities, right?” She laughed. “ _Dziękuję_ [Thank you].”

 

“ _Proszę bardzo_ [You are welcome].” Jughead responded, moving on to add some shadows to Betty’s clavicles. A bag of chips and dip sat on on a low stool that the two of them had relocated to the side of the tub. Jughead took a moment to snack before getting back to work.

 

Graduation was next weekend. In literal days, they were no longer going to be high school teenagers. While Jughead doubted that he would feel any more grown up after walking across the stage with his diploma, legally, he would be considered an adult. Sure, they still had a partial summer of pretending that they weren’t, but by the time August rolled back around, everyone was going to be packed up and ready to move on. Some to college. Some to jobs. Some to new adventures in other parts of the world. Some would maybe stay.

 

For for him and Betty, they were moving on.

 

As excited as they were about college and the next chapter of their lives, Jughead knew that everything felt bittersweet overall. He and Betty had a plan. But a plan only went so far to ease the inevitable separation. He wasn’t an idiot. Stuff, experiences, people, _mistakes_ happen in college. Essentially vowing to keep up their relationship was no easy thing to ask or promise. Tough years were coming up.

 

So Jughead decided.

 

In an atypical fit of decision making, he took the initiative to pull up an internet search for hotels outside of a 50 mile radius of Riverdale. Narrowing his search to hotels with a four-star rating or above, he found a nice place that boasted lovely views of a lake, easy access to a quaint small town, luxurious rooms and beddings, a five-star buffet, and a 78”, extra wide, stand-alone tub.

 

It was a worthy cause for a small dip into his savings.

 

Jughead booked the room before informing Betty. Even before the resulting Chicken Parmesan, Tiramisu, and what was probably the most _thorough_ massage ever received, Jughead knew that Betty was excited about it.

 

So here they were, sharing an overnight bag and a _ridiculous_ bathtub after a day of hiking and exploring.

 

He didn’t bother trying to hold back the small smile that quirked his lips, adding a few more dark lashes to Betty’s downturned eyes with sharp strokes. He was really enjoying himself. His girlfriend was glowing with contentment and happiness, and they were far enough away that no one would bother them.

 

Jughead imagined that this was what their future could be. After college and the two of them were on the same continent again.

 

With a sigh, Betty stretched her legs, toes dancing along his sides, and the delicate bones of her feet brushing his ribs. “All right. _Czas na przerwę_.”

 

Jughead knew that phrase easily enough: Betty said it every time she was done. “Break time?”

 

“For now.” Reaching up, she pulled off her glasses, folding them, and leaning over the tub to place both the book and glasses on the floor beside the tub. Jughead watched as the water rolled off her back and side as she half-emerged from the bathtub, taking a mental picture before she resettled. This time, she dropped her head back against the lip of the tub and hooked her arms over the sides. He watched her body physically deflate as she relaxed, eyes tracing her clavicles, shiny with water to the tops of her breasts, only partially hidden by bubbles.

 

“Oh, Juggie. This was _the best_ idea.”

 

“I’ve been known to have a few of them,” he smiled.

 

Betty’s eyes had closed when she dropped her head back, but she peeked one open to look at him. “So what are you working on? Another comic for the school paper?”

 

Jughead shrugged, the scratch of his pencil filling the room. “I thought it would be fitting. One last Dipsy Doodle for the road. The _Blue and Gold_ will never be the same without it.”

 

“So many students seem to read the school newspaper just for your comics.” Betty indulged. “It will be missed. So who is the victim of this particular edition?”

 

“Eh, no satire this time. Just a little goodbye message. I hope to inspire someone to take the torch and continue the Dipsy Doodle legacy in my honor.”

 

“Oh, no. Is this comic strip going to make me cry? I feel like I need some kind of warning.” Which was a fair statement, Jughead thought. Every goodbye and lingering hug seemed to have Betty’s emotions on a hair-trigger lately.

 

Jughead flipped back to the page and scanned the four panel comic again. “Nothing particularly gut-wrenching. But you can look at it now if you need to prepare yourself for the final draft.”

 

Betty immediately brought up her hands and made grabby motions with her fingers. He took the opportunity to pass the notebook over before reaching over for the entire bag of chips and munching away. Betty leaned forward eagerly, eyes taking in the comic and careful to make sure that it stayed out of the water. Jughead watched her read and take in the drawings. As an artist, he really appreciated this about her: when Betty looked at something, she gave it her full attention. Every piece of text, art, or equation was always carefully considered and appreciated whether she understood it or not. She tried.

 

Betty Cooper was terrifyingly easy to love.

 

As expected, a small smile graced her lips, eyes just a little watery before she closed the sketch book and placed it on the floor, a safe distance from the bathtub. “It’s very sweet, Juggie.”

 

Jughead simply shrugged. “I have untold depth. Just revealing this final secret before escaping to the post-high-school world.”

 

Betty shook her head with a small smile, leaning further towards Jughead instead of relaxing back. Jughead let her pull the bag of chips from his slack hands, barely paying attention to where she placed the snack before she pushed herself to her knees and leaned further into his space. “ _Jesteś kochany_ [You are lovely],” she whispered before pressing her lips against his.

 

Closing his eyes, Jughead let his mouth fall open under hers, basking in the taste of cool ranch dip and the warmth of her tongue. Bringing his hands up, he brushed his fingertips under her breasts before spreading them wide against her ribs, pulling back to bring her fully against him.

 

Nudity was no longer a novelty, and he loved that they were comfortable enough that clothes or no-clothes didn’t do anything to disrupt the vibe when they spent time together.

 

Before Betty, bodies were just . . . bodies. Limbs and torsos, and organs that helped people get from point A to point B. The vehicle needed to ingest as much food as humanly possible. For playing video games or taking naps. For giving Jellybean rides on his shoulders.

 

For bodies to be something to enjoy? To derive pleasure from? This. _This_ was a novelty.

 

Betty’s body was an experience that Jughead reveled in. Whether they were having sex or not, he just liked to bask in the feel of her pressed against him. Like now, her breasts against his chest, and her naval sliding deliciously against his, this was _indeed_ lovely.

 

Betty Cooper was lovely.

 

*//*//*

 

Jughead liked to let her take the lead with kisses. It was a heady experience, to feel her physically crave his mouth and tongue, and he was more than happy to follow her guidance. While her hands framed his neck and cheek, finger tips scratching the base of his skull in the _best way_ , he slid one of his hands down lower, tracing the dip of her lower back, firm rear, the crease where ass meets thigh, right to her core. Even submerged in warm bathwater, her entrance was molten hot against his touch.

 

Betty gasped into his mouth, arching beautifully before breaking the kiss, giving him the opportunity to press his teeth against the delicate bones of her clavicle and pull her in tighter, sliding two fingers right into her without effort.

 

“Oooooh . . .” Betty groaned right into his ear, panting. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders, anchoring her to him.

 

Jughead felt dizzy with need.

 

“Sunshine.”

 

After a few short pants, and a couple shaky thrusts of her hips against his fingers, Betty managed to find her voice. “Y-yeah?”

 

Jughead turned his head just a little, lips brushing the shell of her ear. “I want to do something a little different tonight. So I’m going to get you off, in here, right now, and then, I’m taking you to our king-sized bed.”

 

Betty shuddered, but she wasn’t far enough gone to catch what he _wasn’t_ saying. Leaning back just enough to make eye contact, she brushed her thumb along his cheek. “Jughead?”

 

He felt emboldened, and comforted, by her inquiry. Jughead smiled. “I brought condoms and lube. I f-, I’m ready for this . . . if you are.”

 

Betty’s blue eyes widened. “Y-, are you sure?” Jughead shifted his fingers, distracting (kind of unintentionally) her just a moment before she shook her head and clamped down on him, stilling his movements. “Jughead-”

 

“I’m sure,” he nodded, already imagining her tight around _him_ . “I’ve been thinking about it, and I want it. I want to do this with you. Tonight. Now. Here.” He didn’t want to explain any further than that this moment. Jughead appreciated Betty’s efforts to try to understand him, and she seemed to understand and accept that his libido, while there to some extent, was significantly lower than a typical male’s. In all honesty, before starting his relationship with Betty, he almost never had an erection or a desire for sexual release. Even now, he could be completely satisfied spending the rest of his life getting his girlfriend off over and over _and over again_ without reaching his own release.

 

Making Betty Cooper come was Jughead’s _favorite thing_.

 

And tonight? He felt ready to take this step with the one person he trusted most in this world.

 

Which seemed to be enough to trigger Betty’s tears, who simply smiled before pulling Jughead into another deep kiss. After breaking away for a breath, she nodded. “Yes. Yes, Juggie. I’m ready. I’m so, so ready. Please . . .”

 

Relying on Betty to keep them close, Jughead never broke eye contact as he brought his other hand down to press, tight, concentrated circles around her clit. Betty’s body was radiant above him, arms tight around his shoulders and hips making aborted thrusts against him as she chased her orgasm. She moaned, opening her lips against his throat while she panted against him, “Oh, oooh, oooo, oh.” Betty was beyond words but he still understood what she needed.

 

And he was happy to oblige.

 

The pad of his thumb passed directly over the hard pebble of her clit, hot and pulsing. Jughead massaged her, familiar with the exact formula of pressure and angles to take his girlfriend apart. He felt powerful, like a wizard, casting the most clever spell as Betty tensed beautifully against him, around him, just as he imagined.

 

And just as Jughead knew how to bring Betty to the peak of pleasure, he was just as knowledgeable with guiding her back down, taking her weight as she slumped against him, body shaking with the minor after shocks of her orgasm. Pulling his fingers from her, Jughead traced her labia back up, a parting brush against her core before sliding his hands along miles of smooth skin to her hip and back.

 

It wasn’t until Jughead shifted, feeling her heat tight against him, that he realized that he was _hard_. Need ached in a calm static under his skin, warming him from the inside out, and he busied himself by tracing kisses from the back of Betty’s ears, down her neck, and along her shoulder.

 

“J-, Juggie,” Betty sighed, tilting his head back to hers for a kiss, barely able to do more than breath against his mouth. “We should move.”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Please, let’s move.”

 

Their first attempt to climb out of the bathtub was shaky at best. Water and enamel surfaces made gravity a lovely obstacle, especially since they were trying to stand without letting each other go.

 

Betty burst into laughter the third time Jughead’s foot slipped out from under them, dunking them under water and sloshing soapy water onto the mosaic tiles. Her laughter was infectious, Jughead grinning while he opted to stay in the tub and provided Betty the support she needed to climb out on her own. He felt light as a feather, as Jughead finally made it to solid ground on his own, skin immediately pebbling in the cooler air. “Graceful, I am not.”

 

“I don’t think either of us could claim to possess any form of grace tonight,” Betty chuckled, immediately wrapping her arms around him to run her lips over his nipple. Jughead shivered, cupping the base of Betty’s skull. “But I think we can be forgiven considering the circumstances.”

 

The warmth of Betty’s breath on his nipple was driving him _crazy,_ and unless they wanted to spend the rest of the night laughing at each other while they struggled to stand in the wet bathroom, Jughead needed to get them to a bed pronto. Tightening his hold on her, he directed her distracting lips back up to his, lavishing in the feel of her pressed up against him. Betty’s fingertips pressed into solid points against his back, dragging sharp pleasure along his skin. It was heady, being faced with Betty’s obvious need for him.

 

The two of them had no problem communicating. With Betty, it was so easy to simply talk and be honest without the fear of being misinterpreted (at least not any more). But this was something else they they seemed to excel at: communicating without words. Through touch, laughter, and the obvious affection in each of their expressions, Jughead had no reservations about Betty’s affections.

 

And she couldn’t seem to get enough of him.

 

Jughead could appreciate the compulsion. Sliding one hand behind her back, he guided one of her hands his other free hand, fingers tangling. Breaking away from the kiss, Betty smiled up at him, fully aware of their new position. “Are you literally about to start a _tango_?” Her voice dripped with innuendo.

 

Laughing, Jughead held her closer, leaning his forehead against hers. “Take my lead?”

 

“Always.”

 

And he began to very, very carefully guide Betty backwards toward the bedroom. While they weren’t dancing in any shape or form, Betty began to hum lightly under breath, swaying her hips just a little while Jughead made sure that they were able to navigate the slippery bathroom floors without trouble.

 

As soon as his toes hit soft carpeting, he scooped her up, hands grasping under her thighs, while Betty instinctively wrapped her legs around his torso. Playing along, he spun them just once, her laughter breaking the tune before tilting them onto the freshly made bed. They both immediately tensed at feel of cool sheets against their hyper-warm skin, Betty squealing with laughter as she grasped the end of the comforter and pulled it over them.

 

“It’s so coooold!”

 

Jughead laughed rolling them further into a blanket burrito. “The best air conditioning money can buy!”

 

Pinned under Betty’s weight, Jughead basked in the warmth radiating from her body, clashing with the cold sheets around them. Their combined body heat, however, began to quickly warm their small cocoon, shared kisses and wandering hands rebuilding the atmosphere they had in the tub.

 

This time, Betty broke away just a little, propping herself up on her elbows. Blue eyes were focused on him, the tips of her fingers brushing his cheek as she slowly began to roll her hips against his. Jughead’s breath was caught in his throat, eyes shutting for just a moment to focus on the hot press of his girlfriend against his very obvious erection. Each roll of Betty’s hips was slow and controlled, soon coaxing Jughead to follow her lead. He gripped her hips and held her closer, stilling her movements so that he could press against her.

 

Within moments, it was hard to think past _heat_ , and _wet_ , and _want_ , and _need,_ their damp breaths fanning over his skin. Jughead’s head fell back as Betty connected a trail of kisses and nipping teeth under his jaw line. The sharp press of her teeth behind his ear, made him groan shamefully, and leaned harder along Betty’s body.

 

Her folds were soaking and stimulating the curve of his penis . . . and it wasn’t enough just yet.

 

As if reading his mind, Betty reached down to press the meat of her palm against him, stroking him lightly from root to tip. “Jughead,” she breathed, sucking against his skin. “You, you are so amazing.”

 

Jughead _felt_ amazing, both of his hands tracing Betty’s body, following each tip and curve until he was gently cupping her face.

 

Betty stilled for a moment as he brought their foreheads together, struggling to regain some semblance of control over his body. This was so new.

 

New and terrifying, and utterly perfect.

 

Jughead could understand now why his friends were so obsessed with sex. Talking about sex, and having sex, and being in positions where they lost all higher functions just for a few seconds of blissful climax. He always thought it was just stupid. Too much work, too much sweating, and too much body fluids.

 

But Jughead saw it now.

 

He would never see the appeal of sex with other girls. Acquaintances, half-strangers, kind-of-friends, or whoever. Jughead couldn’t fathom _this_ with anyone else who wasn’t Betty Cooper.

 

Surely his body wouldn’t allow it. His _mind_ , his _heart_ wouldn’t allow it.

 

It just wasn’t possible.

 

Betty leaned up minutely to drop a slow, soft kiss against his forehead. Her arm reached out for the condom on the bedside table, ripping it open and slowly, rolling the latex onto Jughead. It was done in moments, wordlessly, and then, Betty was back, breathing against his skin for a moment before reconnecting their foreheads. “You ready, Juggie? You still with me?”

 

 _To the moon and back_ , he wanted to say. _Forever and ever and ever. As long as you’ll have me. Please say you will have me forever._

 

His next breath was like a punch in the gut, feeling Betty’s hand slowly guiding him where they both needed him to be. Her core a promise of heat at the tip.

 

“I’m with you, Betty,” Jughead felt winded, like he had just run a triathalon. “I’m ready. H-, how about you?”

 

Her answering smile was all the answer he really needed, clear affection shining out of her entire expression. “Yes, Jughead. Yes.”

 

All Betty did was bring her body closer, so, so slowly, the world narrowed to a near pinpoint. Jughead was sure he looked like an idiot, eyes wide open, mouth hanging, hyper aware of a part of his body being slowly welcomed into hers.

 

It was like nothing else, and if Betty hadn’t brought one of his hands down to her chest, urging him to breathe along with her, Jughead was sure he was within seconds of passing out. When they were fully connected, Jughead took in a huge gulp of air, and Betty giggled against him. Which was a wonderful experience unto itself because he could literally _feel_ her joy.

 

“Holy shit,” he wheezed.

 

She beamed. “Still with me?”

 

“A-are you kidding me? I feel like I’ve ascended.”

 

“Ascended?” Betty laughed, shifting just a little. Her eyes closed just a moment, adjusting to his size, mouth going just a little slack with pleasure. She refocused on him.

 

Jughead had never felt so heavy or weightless in his entire life. “Maybe just a little.”

 

“Are you ok?”

 

This time Jughead shifted, causing Betty to moan. “Betty Cooper. I love you. And, I’m the best I’ve ever felt in my life.”

 

It seemed to physically pain her a little, but Betty somehow managed to moan and laugh at the same time, rolling her hips in time with Jughead’s.

 

And then, they were beyond words.

 

It was hard to remember that the world was more than just the two of them. Anything that wasn’t the bedsheets around them, or fingers clasped together, or the heavy, wet slaps of their bodies meeting over, and over, and over, seemed irrelevant.

 

Jughead never wanted to stop kissing her. Never wanted to stop being in this bed with her. Never wanted to let Betty Cooper go.

 

The grip of Betty’s hands on him was a reflection of her desires; just like him.

 

They weren’t ever going to stop.

 

And gripped in the tight, freeing grasp of their shared climax, Jughead Jones and Betty Cooper fell over together.

 

And they fell into a world where the end would never come.

 

This was their beginning.

 

Their vow.

 

The start of their lives together.

* * *

 

[Word Count: 3786 OF SHAMELESS SMUT, 10 PAGES OF THIS, WHAT AM I]

AN: I’m not Polish. All Polish you see here were derived from Google Translate and Polishforums.com.

I also have no confidence in my abilities to write any kind of sex, so if this feels stupid to you, please do me a favor and wipe this from your memory. SEX IS HARD TO WRITE DAMMIT.

Tumblr handle: 1sleepydormouse

Instagram: @pepper_sauce


	45. Ugly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heaven isn't too far away  
> Closer to it everyday   
> No matter what your friends might say

Concentrating on the even application of red lacquer on Ethel’s toes, Betty kept only part of her attention on Danny, Sandy, the Pink Ladies, and the T-Birds jamming to “Summer Nights” on the television nearby.

 

Freshly steamed graduation robes were carefully hidden away in one of Veronica’s massive closets, little black dresses prepped for tomorrow’s graduation. It had been an emotionally exhausting day, all of the girls wordlessly flocking together for some much needed support. They spent way too much time laughing, crying, and reminiscing in equal measures as they hung out at the mall, sobbing over sushi as the hours passed. Betty was pretty sure that most of Riverdale was giving them a wide berth today considering their shameless display.

 

But none of them cared. 

 

Carefully dabbing away tears to avoid smearing her eye makeup, Veronica had declared that the last sleepover of high school was happening that night, at her home, and they were all required to attend with the most  _ juvenile _ pajamas they owned.

 

No one was surprised at all when Veronica welcomed them in a designer sleeping gown. Cheryl and Nancy had quickly ganged up on her to create a three ponytailed masterpiece on her head.

 

Leaning away from Ethel’s toes, Betty glanced at Veronica, hair still tied back haphazardly while she lip synced along with Sandy. Chuckling to herself, Betty reached over for the clear topcoat. “This red really works with your complexion, Ethel.”

 

“I know,” Ethel grinned, wiggling her toes carefully and admiring the shine. “I hate painting my fingernails, but love having some color on my toes. As you can see, red is my favorite.”

 

“It suits you! Those open-toed sandals you have are going to be perfect.”

 

Midge leaned close to them, munching on a bag of pretzels. “And you’re tall enough that you won’t have to lift your graduation gown for people to appreciate them. I had to seriously hem mine just so that I wouldn’t trip in my heels.”

 

Laughing, Ethel wiggled her eyebrows. “Just have Moose give you a piggyback across the stage.”

 

“Oh God, don’t let him hear you even joke about it. I wouldn’t put it past him to try.”

 

“Um, not that I don’t think it would be the cutest thing ever, but I would honestly pay money to see Josie and her girlfriend piggyback across the stage.” Betty admired the smooth application of top coat on Ethel’s big toe. “Did you see them in that consignment store trying on hats? They are the  _ cutest _ .”

 

“Ooo!” Nancy agreed, her hair tucked neatly into a scarf. “Josie’s girlfriend is almost as tall as you, Ethel. And Josie is so  _ little _ , even when they are just walking down the street holding hands, it’s the most adorable thing.” Reaching over for a pretzel, she dipped into a jar of Nutella. “Unfortunately, she attends a different school, so she won’t be on the stage.”

 

“Such a bummer,” Midge sighed. She turned to look at Cheryl who was sipping at a glass of sparkling water. “It would be nice if you could be up on stage with us, too.”

 

Cheryl didn’t seem too bummed about, shrugging her shoulder. “All of you will be garbed in those shapeless graduate robes, while I’ll be in my lovely sundress. I’m not feeling left out  _ in the least _ .”

 

Veronica groaned and tossed a handful of popcorn at the heiress, which of course instigated a short-lived food fight, before they all began to calm down again. Smithers was kind enough to withhold any comments as he came in to replenish the popcorn and add more ice to the punchbowl. The girls all thanked him in chorus as he walked out, a small smile on his moustached face.

 

“All right, all right. Betty’s turn.” Ethel moved her toes and made grabby hands at Betty’s ankles. “What color do you want?”

 

“Jade green, please,” Betty handed over the emerald shade, which nearly matched the green moons on her pink pajamas.

 

“Lovely choice,” Ethel shook the small bottle before getting on task. “You think you’ll be able to keep the waterworks handled tomorrow?”

 

Betty barely withheld her snort, leaning back on her hands. “I’m going to be a horrible mess, but Veronica is letting me borrow her waterproof makeup, so I’ll be all set.”

 

“Your brother and sister going to make it?”   
  
“Yup! They are all flying in tonight. In fact,” she glanced at her watch. “They are probably already here considering the time. I’ll catch up with them in the morning.”

 

“Ugh,” Veronica groaned, leaning back on a pile of pillows. “I’m excited for tomorrow, but I’m also just dreading the whole day. How are we supposed to handle it?”

 

Which was a valid concern. Despite today’s rollercoaster of emotions, Betty was surprisingly unworried about tomorrow. Time was flying by so fast. 

 

Graduation, then after a few weeks, it was time to go on. She had her ticket ready for Oxford. She had her class schedule, her dorm, her roommate all lined up. Her name was on a meal plan, and soon the next four years of her life would be starting.

 

Betty thought about Jughead, the two of them curled around each other. 

 

Unafraid.

 

He was going to be there tomorrow. They were going to graduate together. By virtue of their last names, Betty was going to make her trek across the stage first. But Jughead was going to be following right afterwards, joining her on the other side of actual adulthood. 

 

It was exciting.

 

“Well, I think we are going to be as ready as we can be.” Betty smiled, wrapping her arms around her legs, and dropping her chin on her knees. “We’ll be ok after it’s all over.”

 

“Easy for  _ you _ to say,” Veronica rolled her eyes. “You have a boyfriend who is willing to stay with you past high school.”

 

“You and Jughead are so romantic!” Nancy fluttered, offering Betty a pretzel. “Wow, a year ago, I never would have imagined saying  _ that _ to anyone.”

 

This time, Betty didn’t bother stifling her snort. She didn’t either. 

 

Midge brought a teddy bear close to her chest. “Seriously. While high school seemed to drag on forever, our senior year was like the blink of an eye. Especially for you, Bets. I mean, within the span of a few months you broke Archie Andrews, rebooted Jughead Jones, and redefined all of our perceptions of the two of them. You had a very,  _ very _ busy year.”

 

Blushing, Betty looked up in thought. “I didn’t break Archie. He just . . . finally had the opportunity to grow up.”

 

Ethel switched feet, tapping Betty’s leg to move. “It is kind of crazy. You and Ronnie have been vying for his attentions since we were kids.”

 

“Well, I for one am no longer holding a candle for Archikins. It feels quite liberating.” Veronica stated.

 

Nancy arched a brow. “So who are you holding a candle for now? Reggie?”

 

“Believe it or not, the only candle I have is for myself.” Veronica reached up to flip her hair back, before remembering the weird ponytails and dropping her hand down. “I need to start really focusing on my responsibilities as a Lodge heiress.”

 

Cheryl barked out a laugh. “And college guys are just so much fun when you are unburdened!”

 

Betty laughed while the rest of the girls echoed the sentiment. Smiling down at her toes, she couldn’t help but think that maybe tomorrow would be more fun than sad.

 

She was looking forward to it.

* * *

 

[Word Count: 1,252]

AN: I cannot BELIEVE that I forgot to include the use of a condom in the last chapter. Sorry about that, dudes. I went back as soon as some of you guys pointed it out, and it’s fixed :D Also, many, MANY thanks to Angel Sawyer on FF.net who helped me out with the Polish phrases I used. I’m also EXTREMELY HUMBLED by all the positive feedback on Chapter 44. Thank you guys so much :D

Full speed ahead guys! October is almost done (it snuck up on me -_-), the last chapters will be more drabbles than epic length chapters, but I promise they will still wind down to a satisfying conclusion.

Tumblr handle: 1sleepydormouse

Instagram: @pepper_sauce


	46. War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I keep, I keep thinking that it's not goodbye  
> Keep on thinking it's a time to fly  
> And this is how it feels

Despite the expansive width of the back seat of the car, Jughead was not in the least bit bothered to have Betty pressed up against his side. His arm was curled tightly around her shoulder, committing the warmth of her body to memory while he still could.

 

The past few weeks had passed in a flash, and despite spending nearly every other day with Betty, it felt like it still wasn’t enough time.

 

Judging by his girlfriend’s grip around his waist, she felt the same way.

 

But here they were: in the back of Hal Cooper’s sedan, the trunk packed with Betty’s suit case, and on their way to the airport to see Betty off to college. 

 

Last night, Betty was able to convince her parents to let Jughead stay the night. Hal was hesitant, but Alice had agreed on the condition that they kept the bedroom door open. Jughead was honestly too grateful for the opportunity to feel embarrassed by their assumptions, not that they did anything relatively provocative past sharing a few kisses.

 

Neither had really wanted to sleep, and if it was with anyone else, lying silently in bed and just staring at each other sounded like intense torture. 

 

But that’s what they essentially did. Jughead watched Betty fight the heaviness of her eyelids, shaking her head when exhaustion had gripped her the hardest. To be honest, it was a little heartbreaking, watching his girlfriend rob herself of sleep just to catch a few more silent minutes with him. Betty had ignored his prompts to get some sleep. Her travel itinerary was brutal, but she had insisted that the could catch up on sleep during her flights. Around 2:00 a.m., she had made a suggestion about firing up the coffee machine, and Jughead had to put his foot down, wrapping his arms tightly around Betty and trapping her.

 

Betty’s half hearted struggles ended pretty swiftly, and their combined body heat inevitably coaxed her into sleep.

 

Despite his constant bouts of power naps throughout the day, Jughead didn’t actually need that much sleep to function. He was a night owl by nature, and insomnia took over him at odd times during the year. Instead of considering it a curse, he was always grateful to use the extra time to read, study, or play games without worry of interruption.

 

Last night, it gave him a few more uninterrupted hours to feel the night shrink grain by grain, his chest tightening with each minute that past.

 

It felt strikingly tragic, like watching a house burn in slow motion, heat reducing everything to ash. And Jughead felt powerless in this slow destruction of his time with Betty. Even though it devastated them, he couldn’t help wishing for just a few more minutes.

 

He felt that now, the slow rise and fall of Betty’s breathing against him as the sedan ate the miles between them and the airport.

 

They had a plan.

 

They knew this was coming.

 

This wasn’t the end.

 

But it sure as hell felt like it.

 

Betty’s fingers shifted against his side, fingers slipping under the hem of his shirt to rest against skin. 

 

Her parents kept up a steady stream of conversation up front, making small talk about Hal’s new position at his job, and Alice’s observations of the other wives. It was just another day for them, sure in the knowledge that the world wasn’t drastically changing around them. Jughead would hate them for it if it weren’t for the knowledge that they had gone through this already with Betty’s older siblings.

 

“You better keep your phone in your hands, Jughead Jones,” Betty murmured, her voice a pleasant vibration under his skin.

 

“Why’s that?” he asked, keeping his voice steady, eyes tracking the passing scenery.

 

“Because as soon as I pass security, I will be texting you every step I make. When I buy my first airport coffee, and when I find my gate. I’ll text when I get bored while waiting for the plane, and send you pictures of every exhausted traveler sleeping in weird places.”

 

Jughead chuckled. “I’m not much of a text-er, but I’m kind of looking forward to those.”

 

Betty glanced up at him. “Well, you will  _ become _ a text-er, after today. You’ll get so many messages from me you’ll get sick of them.”

 

He pulled her tighter. “Never.”

 

She smiled, like literal sunshine peeking behind dark clouds. “You haven’t seen or heard the end of me, Jughead.”

 

“You sound like some kind of cartoon villain . . . or Team Rocket.”

 

Chuckling, Betty shifted against the seat, her hair like silk against his cheek. Taking advantage of her loosening grip on him, he reached into his back pocket for his phone. Hitting the volume button on the side, the two of them watched as he placed it on the highest setting.

 

“There, I won’t miss a single one.”

 

“Will you text me back?”

 

“Barring any meal times, I will make sure that you eventually get a response for me.” Which was a huge lie, and they both knew it. Jughead always responded to Betty’s emails, notes, and texts. Sure they were always food emojis that didn’t really mean anything, but the sentiment was always appreciated.

 

Reaching out, Betty took his phone, quickly typing in the pin number to unlock it before navigating to the calendar app. Jughead watched as she flipped through the months until landing on October. Tapping on the second weekend of the month, she started adding an appointment, creatively naming it “My Much Anticipated Reunion With the Only Relevant Blond In My Life” followed by a line of random travel emojis. After the third plane, she saved it and slipped into the pocket of his hoodie.

 

And just like that, the tightness in his chest eased just a little bit more.

 

The world still felt like it was irreparably changing . . . but there was something to look forward to beyond today.

 

He threaded his fingers through hers and let their hands rest on his lap.

 

They were going to be okay.

* * *

[Word Count: 1,010]

 

AN: Excuse me while I shamelessly fail at meeting my self-imposed deadline of finishing this fic. I’ll be using the first week of NaNoWriMo working on this so DO NOT FEAR.

Tumblr handle: 1sleepydormouse

Instagram: @pepper_sauce


	47. Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Don't go crying to your mama  
> 'Cause you're on you're own, in the real world  
> Ain't it fun, ain't it fun  
> Baby now you're one of us

“This is an Ivy League school, and I have to share living space with three other dudes. Tell me where the justice is in this?”

 

Betty laughed, adjusting her cell phone against her shoulder and ear while she used both hands to swipe her makeup remover pad across her eyelids. “I’m afraid that’s a standard across most schools. Congested communal living for freshmen.”

 

“I’m not paying this exorbitant tuition to share a toilet with three other neanderthals. They roomed me with athletes, Bets.  _ Athletes _ . It’s like being fed to the wolves.”

 

“Like you’re  _ paying _ that tuition, Juggie.”

 

“Hey, I earned that scholarship with my blood, sweat, and tears. Damn right I paid for it.”

 

Grinning at her reflection, Betty reached for her evening moisturizer. “Well, I’m not going to argue with that, hun. Are the other guys bullying you or anything?”

 

“It’s the opposite,” Jughead groaned, his exasperation clear through the receiver. “They are so damn earnest. They leave extra coffee for me in the mornings before they head to their practices, and say ‘hey’ everytime they see me around campus. Like we’re buddies or something. And whenever all four of us happen to be in the dorm at the same time, they actually flatten themselves along the wall to let me pass by.”

 

Betty crooked an eyebrow, not seeing what the problem was. “Uh, Juggie?”

 

“Either these guys are in love with me and want me to be the token nerd-pervert to join their college orgie, or they are actual nice-guy athletes and you and I both know that  _ they are not supposed to exist.” _

 

A laugh punched out of Betty’s chest, supporting herself against the bathroom sink as she tried to reign her amusement back in. “Juggie. You are best friend with Archie Andrews. You know, football player?”

 

“Now, you and I both know that calling Arch a ‘football player’ is kind of pushing it. He wasn’t exactly the star athlete.”

 

“Still failing to see your problem.”

 

“Barring Arch, Moose, and Chuck, the other football, basketball, lacrosse, volleyball, and other less significant sport players at Riverdale were douche-canoes. Privileged shits who only cared about being assholes. I want to reiterate that this is an Ivy League school, where the privileged pretty much flock. This should be my opportunity to put them in their place and show them what a decent man with above average IQ can do with a freaking Raspberry Pi, ballpoint pen, and a broken RC car.”

 

“So . . . you just want to show them up?”

 

“But they are so damn  _ nice _ . What the hell. Where is the fun in this??”

 

Betty fell asleep laughing that night.

* * *

 

Hunched over her notebook, Betty followed her professor’s movements while she spoke further on Virginia Woolf and the Dreadnaught hoax. Enchanted by Woolf’s fight for feminism, Betty quickly jotted down a few notes to look into later, possibly for her course final paper.

 

In the pocket of her jeans, her phone vibrated in two short bursts, indicating a text. Glancing at the classroom clock, she smiled.

 

Right on time.

 

Casually leaning back, Betty glaced at her computer screen and promptly rolled her eyes at the picture of a tray carrying three full plates of breakfast food. Two omelettes, four pieces of whole-grain toast, a doughnut, grits with a pat of butter, three pancakes covered in mixed berries, bacon, sausage, and a shiny apple.

 

Jughead was really upping the ante in taking full advantage of the school’s dining program. Whoever thought it was a good idea to allow students to pay one flat rate for unlimited food did not see her boyfriend coming  _ at all _ .

 

Betty glanced up for a moment before risking a quick text.

 

Betty: I think that’s a few sausages more than yesterday’s breakfast.

. . .

Jughead: The lunch ladies love me.

Jughead: They literally make daily bets to see who can pile the most food on the tray without spilling a drop.

Jughead: I love college.

. . .

Betty: I love you, and try not to give yourself a heart attack from the influx of cholesterol. 

. . .

Jughead: AS IF.

Jughead: Love you, too.

 

* * *

 

It was 1:00 a.m. for Betty, but she couldn’t sleep, curled in a fetal position in her bed with her laptop propped open before her. In order to minimize the glow of the screen, she had her comforter pulled up over it, enclosing her in a makeshift tent for one.

 

Her smile was brittle at best, but she was sure that Jughead could see right through her. She brought her fingertips up to brush against the screen, imagining the warm skin of her boyfriend’s cheek.

 

Jughead’s smile to her was a little more sincere, a mirror of her own position in his own bed. His hair looked a little longer, falling in gentle raven waves against his white pillow case. He was shirtless, so Betty’s eyes could take in the sharp angle of his clavicles and the slight dip of his throat.

 

She missed him.

 

She missed Riverdale.

 

She missed home.

 

Betty closed her eyes, struggling to calm the need, the buzzing sense of loss and loneliness under her skin.

 

Jughead breathed along with her, his eyes half lidded and chest rising with each exaggerated breath. Unconsciously, Betty tried to match her breath with his, feeling just a little more settled with each drag.

 

After a few more minutes of silence, Jughead offered her a slow smile. “I got you, Sunshine.”

 

Exhaustion was slowly replacing the yawning sadness in Betty’s chest and she nodded against the warm crinkle of her pillow.

 

This was enough.

 

* * *

“Oh my god.”

 

“BETTY. I KNOW.”

 

“Oh my god!” Laughing, Betty immediately right clicked on the image and saved it to her hard drive. “Archie, how did you even find this?”

 

“Dude, he was calling me, cursing a blue streak about how stupid this I.T. Member of the Week thing is, and I  _ know _ him, so it must have been something  _ amazing _ . All I had to do was look up the Help Desk website and there he was! For the month of September, week 2, he was the I.T. specialist of the month!”

 

“Oh my god, that polo.” Jughead’s “I.T. specialist of the month” portrait was a picture of absolute  _ misery _ . Her genius glutton looked miserable as he stared stone-cold into the camera without a hint of a smile, the orange polo he was required to wear completely washing out his complexion. 

 

It was the best thing Betty had ever seen.

 

Archie laughed. “Please don’t tell him that I called you to share this. He’ll kill me.”

 

Oh heck no. Betty was going to share this picture with her study group this afternoon, print the picture out on glossy paper, frame it, and then, call Jughead just for the sole purpose of tormenting him. 

 

Archie was soooo dead.

 

* * *

Stopping to catch her breath, entire body still buzzing from her latest orgasm (three in a row,  _ three _ !!), Betty collapsed onto Jughead, their sweat and come a sticky mess between them. Jughead’s heart was thundering beneath her cheek and it was the best sound in the world.

 

It was finally quiet enough that Betty could hear the quiet giggling of her roommate outside of her door, probably taking a picture of Betty’s sock on the door (covered in purple stars) for posterity. 

 

She wasn’t worried about anyone interrupting them. Betty had told all of her friends, and her roommate that Jughead’s visit was fast approaching. And they had lots of catching up to do.

 

Jughead shifted beneath her, still trying to catch his breath.

 

“Damn, babe.”

 

Betty nipped at his chin, sucking a deep red mark with lips, teeth, and tongue. “I missed you.”

 

“I’m getting the message loud and clear.” 

 

She could hear the smug laugh in his voice.

 

“But, is there a particular reason why you’ve been topping for the last hour?”

 

Lifting her head, Betty smiled down at him. “It’s all part of my dastardly plan to get this bed smelling like you for  _ weeks _ after you have to go back stateside.”

 

He notched an eyebrow. “Weeks?”

 

Leaning down, Betty stole another kiss from him before pushing herself back up, straddling Jughead and rolling her hips just a little. He was still half-hard from his last orgasm, and they both knew that he was down and out for the count. But that didn’t mean that Betty couldn’t enjoy feel of his naked skin sliding and grinding against hers. “Weeks.”

 

Jughead groaned, rolling his hips in retaliation before grasping Betty’s hips and flipping them over. Betty giggled as he towered over her, replacing his cock with his nimble fingers, pressing against her clitoris, and sinking two fingers deep inside. 

 

Her giggle tapered off into a low moan, head dropping back.

 

“Sounds, kind of dirty,” Jughead grinned, sucking kisses along the upper crest of her breast. “But I think this bed would be much better smelling like the two of us.”

 

* * *

 

Two weeks after Jughead had to fly back home, Betty received a package: Jughead’s favorite Tetris t-shirt, soft and worn from years of use.

 

* * *

 

“Hon, you are a Sophomore now, of course you have friends who want to hang out with you. But if you really didn’t want to go to the party, you should have just said no.”

 

“Just because I have been awake for the past three nights finishing up this project, doesn’t mean that I’m dumb enough to turn down free pizza and wings.” Jughead stopped to chew what Betty assumed was a huge slice of pepperoni. “I’m always down for food, not so much for the socializing.”

 

“So you’re hiding in Lucas’s closet with a plate of food?”

 

“And some mothballs if my nose is working right. Those chemicals in the lab have destroyed my olfactory senses.”

 

Betty giggled, trying to keep it low since she was currently camped out at the library. Her friend, Clara smiled at her from across the table, three pens propped behind her ear, and a highlighter in hand while she worked in her art history textbook. 

 

“Boyfriend?” she mouthed silently.

 

Betty nodded. “He’s using me as an excuse not to socialize.”

 

Clara shook her head and rolled her eyes.

 

Betty agreed. “Well, I’m glad your project is finally done. You planning on recovering this weekend?”

 

“Eh, kind of,” Jughead said with full mouth. Betty listened to him chew for a few minutes. “I have a lunch date with Chic on Sunday so I’ll be emerging from my den of darkness then, but otherwise, it’s just reviewing some notes for this programming class.”

 

“It is so weird how much you and my brother hang out,” Betty wrinkled her nose. “I thought boyfriends were usually afraid on their girlfriend’s brothers.” 

 

“Nah, Chic and I are bosom-pals. He feeds me, tells me barely classified stuff that goes on at work, and then we both commiserate on how demanding you are as both a girlfriend and sister.”

 

“Demanding??”

 

“So many shirts, babe.”

 

“Hey! I mail your shirts back! I even wash them!”

 

“And ain’t that kind of a shame?”

* * *

 

Betty tried to keep her blushing down to a minimum when mailed a pair of panties to her boyfriend that next weekend.

 

* * *

 

Jughead’s laughter was worth it.

 

* * *

 

It wasn’t until Betty’s Junior year that she finally found a Polish restaurant with a no-nonsense Grandmother running the kitchen.

 

Her request for a picture was met with plenty of confusion, but they were kind enough to grant her her request, leading Betty and Clara to the back kitchen. Surrounded by the lovely smell of spiced meat and vegetables, Betty held her phone high above them, smiling as she snapped a selfie with herself, Grandma Anka, and a beaming Clara, a small cluster of chefs waving in the background. 

 

She sent it to Jughead without a second thought. 

 

During her visit to him later that semester, she was very happy to find the picture taped by his headboard.

 

* * *

 

It was a very weird situation to be in: Jughead was always calm and collected, no matter what what going on. To have him practically hyperventilating in her ear minutes before his capstone presentation was kind of amazing . . . and a little heartbreaking.

 

She wanted to be there to hug him and cheer him on in person. 

 

“Juggie? Jughead I need you to take some deep breaths. Come on, hun, I’m right here.”

 

“This is so stupid,” he groaned. She could hear the thump of his forehead meeting something solid, probably a wall. “I know this backwards and forwards. I’m ready for this. Hell, I’ve presented it already at the STEM conference.”

 

“You are the smartest person I know, and you can do this blindfolded.” Smiling as she looked across the campus quad, Betty leaned back in the park bench. “Fear is completely irrational, and this is normal. Even for wonderboy, Jughead Jones.”

 

A sigh. “Betty . . .”

 

“Don’t  _ Betty _ me. You have this presentation in the bag. Blow those faculty out of the water, get your amazing creation patented, and completely change the face of mechanical engineering.” Taking a deep breath, she calmed her voice, wanting to sooth her boyfriend’s worries. “You are weeks from graduating, and can you just imagine? You already have job offers just waiting for you. These scientists and companies, your peers, all see something great in you. Something I’ve always seen in you. You will be fine, Jughead.” She smiled. “I love you, and you’ll be fine.”

 

There was another solid minute of Jughead just silently breathing. In the background, Betty could hear another capstone candidate finish their presentation, the auditorium of students and faculty clapping. Jughead would be up soon.

 

“I wish you were here,” Jughead whispered; Betty almost missed it.

 

It broke her heart a little, but she needed to be strong. For him. For the both of them.

 

“Juggie?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Don’t hang up.”

 

“Wha-”

 

“Just, humor me.” Betty pulled her legs up, and curled into the bench, making herself comfortable. “Don’t hang up and put your phone in your pocket. I’ll be right here with you the whole time.”

 

Jughead paused for a moment before snorting just a little bit; it sounded like relief. “You are crazy, Sunshine.”

 

“Knock’em dead, babe.”

 

“I love you, Betty.”

 

Closing her eyes, Betty listened to Jughead present his final Capstone presentation to an auditorium of is professors and friends.

 

She couldn’t be more proud, and joined in their applause. 

* * *

[Word Count: 2,402]

AN: Welp, this chapter was longer than planned, but I was having too much fun with it lol

Figured you guys wouldn’t mind :-D

Tumblr handle: 1sleepydormouse

Instagram: @pepper_sauce 


	48. Welcome

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh with a little strength baby  
> Oh, I'll never let you down  
> With a little love, a little love, a little love, a little love

“Shit, Jones. You have enough cords and stoles to run for Pope.”

 

Jughead looked up from his tablet to cock an eyebrow at his friend, Kareem. The campus commons was a mess of students and faculty standing around in half-assed formation, the buzz of graduation infecting everyone like an electric collar. Everyone just wanted the song-and-dance over with so that they could be  _ free. _

 

Saddled with event videography duties for the last time in his undergraduate career, Jughead was currently directing a custom droid overhead, a GoPro strapped to its belly. From the sky, they all looked like hyped up black-ants against the grass, but Jughead figured that the students, and their parents, would eat it up anyway. He had rigged the droid to play Smash Mouth’s “All Star” at random intervals, so when the crowd heard the tune play, groups would look up and wave at the camera, hooting and throwing peace signs while they sang along.

 

A pretty good job if he did say so himself.

 

Very little attention was expended towards the job, so Jughead was easily able to look away from his tablet to glare at Kareem, a fellow engineer graduate, and roommate for the past two years. “That’s not how Catholicism works.”

 

“Religious Studies was three years ago. I remember fuck all from that class. Just making an observation.”

 

Which was slightly hypocritical if Jughead had anything to say about it. Kareem’s robes were just as decorated as his own, if a little more over the top with the fully-functional trainset installed on top of his graduation cap.

 

Rolling his eyes, Jughead went back to his tablet, directing his drone to make another figure 8 in the sky above them. “Not looking too bad yourself.”

 

“Aww, knew I had a special place in your heart, but we had this conversation before. Graduation day proposals are  cliché as fuck.”

 

Well, his friend was definitely on point today. Jughead blushed despite himself. “Are you drunk?”

 

“Nah, just a little buzzed. Need all the help I can get to get through the next few hours. Who knew that the hardest part of college would be the graduation ceremony?”

 

Jughead refrained from informing his friend for the nth time that he didn’t even have to be there. The leather portfolio the Provost gave them once their name was called was going to be empty: their actual diplomas came in the mail. This was just a glorified ceremony for tearful families, and Jughead was pretty sure that Kareem’s family wasn’t even in the country (his parents ran an international company that probably put the Lodge’s to shame).

 

“I’m sure you can handle it.” Bringing the drone back around, Jughead brought it to a hover right above Kareem’s head, descending slow enough for his friend to simply reach up and pluck it out of the air. Satisfied with the good hour of footage he was able to nab, Jughead tucked the tablet into the back of his slacks and reached into the long sleeves of his robe for a freshly-wrapped Honey Bun.

 

Kareem made quick work of folding the drone down into a perfect 4x4 cube and tossed the camera at Jughead. “Wait, these robes have pockets?”

 

“Just assumed that’s what the sleeves were for.”

 

“Aw man, these are  _ huge _ , you could probably fit the contents of both our fridges in them!”

 

A fridge and a half but Jughead wasn’t going to clarify.

 

The last four years were the longest and shortest in his life. Months upon years of new friends, new experiences, jobs, internships, projects, and late night binges fueled by questionable energy drinks. Jughead was going to miss seeing the rest of the Engineering Club and the Radio Club. Miss movie nights, and incognito trips to the campus quad at 2am for unapproved drone flights. 

 

And while he had used almost every break and vacation to visit Betty, or to have Betty visit him, he was not going to miss the distance. Jughead hated video chatting, and if he never saw a vid-chat service again, it would be too soon.

 

Because of scheduling conflicts with his final project and the senior conference, Jughead was unable to make Betty’s graduation ceremony. Instead of being there to watch Betty receive her Bachelor's Degree in Communications with a Minor in Social Welfare summa cum laude, he spent his Saturday, hunched over his laptop in a coffee shop, watching Polly’s livestream from her phone. It was miserable: seeing Betty glow with pride and joy, surrounded by her friends and family and just  _ not being there _ .

 

Betty was understanding, looking at him the way she always did once she took Polly’s phone away for a short moment. She knew he wanted to be there, and she understood.

 

Jughead felt like the biggest  _ heel _ .

 

He hated video chats so much.

 

Swallowing his last bite of pastry, Jughead took a deep breath of fresh air and recently cut grass. Faculty started calling out to the masses, getting the seniors in line and ready for the ceremony.

 

As Jughead moved into his position in line, tuning out Kareem’s continuous commentary, he looked towards the quad, completely decked out in ribbons, chairs, and a tastefully large stage. Somewhere in that crowd, along with his parents, Jellybean, Hotdog, and some of his friends from Riverdale, was Betty.

 

As proud as he was of his own achievements, Jughead was ready to get this cattle-show over with. He was so,  _ so _ grateful that she was able to make it to his graduation, but he also felt incredibly undeserving of having her here since he was absent from hers. 

 

An irrational, juvenile feeling, but he felt it nonetheless.

 

He wanted to make it up to her. Yes, he was there to pick her up from the airport when she finally touched down on U.S. ground, and Jughead was sure that his pride in Betty’s success was evident in every hug and kiss they shared.

 

Feeling his cell phone buzz, Jughead pulled it out of his pocket and glanced at the text from Chic.

 

[You got this, man.]

 

His phone buzzed again, this time with a picture, Betty smiling brightly at the camera, tucked under Chic’s arm. She held one corner of a gaudy poster, emblazoned with “Congratulations Jughead” in large letters. Behind her and beside her was a gaggle of their friends: Archie and Valerie, Veronica and some guy, Dilton and Cheryl, Moose and Reggie all decked out in semi-formal wear to celebrate his graduation.

 

As much as Jughead appreciated seeing them all there, his eyes were all for Betty. A few months back, she had cropped her blond hair to shoulder-length, and now, it fell in soft curls around her cheek and neck. Her face still held the joy he had always appreciated when they were growing up. Even after four years, she was still the same girl he fell in love with.

 

Chic’s expression in the picture seemed to urge Jughead on. He got this.

 

Damn, right he got this.

 

Reaching down into his left pocket, Jughead traced the small box snug against his thigh.

 

Months of planning and mental upheaval. 

 

If Chic hadn’t been there from the beginning, and wasn’t  _ supportive _ of Jughead’s half-serious mumblings of marriage, Jughead didn’t know if he would be as sure as ready as he was right this moment.

 

Because it was  _ months _ of rumination for Jughead to realize that being “sure” of his relationship with Betty, was different from being “ready” for this next step in said relationship.

 

He was so fucking ready.

 

But Betty had to be to.

 

Which is pretty much what occupied Jughead’s mind for the next two hours. The class president’s speech, the Valedictorian speech, the band’s ensemble, the awards ceremony . . . Jughead had the piece of mind to pay attention when it was his time to walk across the stage, smiling as he shook the Provost's hand and hearing his friend scream his name behind him.

 

Looking out into the crowd as he made his way across, Jughead smiled at his friends, holding up his empty leather portfolio and basking as their cheers intensified. 

 

Walking back to his seat was the hardest thing since all Jughead wanted to do was run back and be with them. But in the end, everyone’s excitement was too infectious, and when Kareem whooped, throwing a solid arm around Jughead’s neck, he echoed the crowd’s joy as they all threw their caps up into the air like a flock of happy black birds. Everyone broke ranks, some of them Jughead’s club mates, and others friends while hugs, kisses, and shoulder punches were passed around.

 

“I’m gonna miss you, man!” Kareem declared, dropping a wet kiss on Jughead’s cheek.

 

“Get off me!” Jughead half heartedly pushed him off. He was going to miss all of these guys.

 

Kareem’s dark eyes spotted something over Jughead’s shoulder and grinned, tightening his hold for a moment before letting him go. “Good luck.”

 

Good luck? And Kareem spun Jughead around with surprising strength, bringing him nearly face to face with another person’s shoulder . . .

 

And just beyond, Betty was heading his way, dodging elbows and leaping bodies, giving random graduates high-fives as she passed on through. Her laughter--god he missed her laugh--spurred him forward, and Jughead found himself reaching out to meet Betty halfway. His fingers immediately honed in on the back of her neck, cradling her head as he brought their lips together. Betty smiled against him, her arms coming around his hips to keep them close. 

 

This. This was what he was waiting for  _ forever  _ to celebrate.

 

“Betty,” he breathed, smiling as she laughed against the corner of his lips, dropping another kiss before pulling away.

 

“Jughead. Congratulations! I’m so, so proud of you!”

 

“Betty.”

 

This time, her hands came up to cradle his face, bringing him close enough to press another lasting kiss against his lips. “We made it,” she whispered.

 

They did. They made it.

 

“Betty Cooper.”

 

“Yes, Juggie?”

 

Jughead paused to soak in the moment. Even in the cacophony of sound and noises around them, he felt secluded from the rest of the celebrations. After a short pause, he quickly released Betty just enough to completely unzip the front of his robe before pulling the loose end up, over their heads. Betty giggled at the random attempt at privacy, poking at the flimsy material of their makeshift tent. “Too much PDA?”

 

“Betty,” Jughead pinned the ends of the robe together with one fist, bringing the other down to slip into his pocket. 

 

Betty’s blue eyes zeroed in on his hand before trailing back up to his face, a hesitant smile on her face. “Yes?”

 

“I love you.”

 

A short laugh punched out of her chest before Betty could catch it, bringing her hands up to pat nervously around her neck as she bit the side of her lip. “I love you, too.”

 

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you at your graduation.”

 

“W-we already had this discussion, Jughead. I understand-”

 

“But I want the chance to always be there for you in the future.”

 

“Juggie?” Her eyes widened, bright despite the shadows his graduation robe covered them in.

 

Grasping his courage with both hands, Jughead continued on. He was a college graduate. A man. He was more sure of this than anything else in the world.

 

He could do this.

 

“I want to be there for your MA and PhD ceremonies. I want to be there to wish you off at every job interview. I want to wake up every morning and see your face before anyone else’s.”

 

Betty’s fingers had stilled, clutched protectively at her throat, full attention on Jughead’s face.

 

He could do this.

 

“Betty Cooper,” without breaking eye contact, he pulled the box from his pocket and held it up. “Would you allow me to be your husband?”

 

“Jughead!” Betty cried, tears glassing up her eyes. Her fingertips went to her lips, failing to hide her shock before she looked down at the velvet box. “Jughead,” she whispered, bringing her gaze back up, this time with a genuine smile. “Yes. Yes, I would love to have you as my husband.”

 

The relief and joy overshadowed the graduation ceremony ten-fold, causing Jughead to giggle a little bit himself. Oh wow, this was really happening . . .

 

“D-don’t you want to see the ring first?”

 

“No, you moron. I don’t need to see the ring first.” And both of her hands came up to lace through the hairs at the base of his skull, bringing him down for a desperate, celebratory kiss. 

 

Jughead let the graduation robe fall down from around them, letting the cheers welcome them back into the real world.

 

And what a world it was.

* * *

 

[Word Count: 2,123]

AN: :-) 

Tumblr handle: 1sleepydormouse

Instagram: @pepper_sauce


	49. Winter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bury me in your quiet love  
> And we will blow away  
> I want a snowfall kind of love  
> The kind of love that keeps you in bed all day

 

608 days and some-odd minutes.

 

Not a bad engagement length, but after the initial proposal and months of whirlwind moving, traveling, settling, and schedule-syncing, 20 months had gone by in a flash. Both Jughead and herself had job opportunities all lined up prior to graduation that took some adjusting.

 

Jughead had accepted a position at a small non-profit organization in Massachusetts that produced prosthetics for military veterans and blue-collar workers. He had spent a semester working there for an internship and really enjoyed working with both the company and the tough-as-nails clientele. Betty had spent countless hours at night, listening to Jughead recount stories about sarcasm-laced pirate jokes, gruff men with their fluffy support animals, and women who could probably run faster than any athlete on the Riverdale track team.

 

Betty was offered a position with an online social-justice news site, dedicated to national and international events. Her first assignment right out of graduation was a three month project in Thailand, where she followed families seeking asylum from Cambodia. 

 

The two of them had known about this ahead of time, and Jughead was quick to encourage Betty to do what she wanted. Of course, Betty was excited for the opportunity, not feeling like she was missing too much from her limited time in the U.S. Life was short and the world was vast! She had so much of it to see!

 

Through Skype and conference calls with realtors, they had managed to find a nice home rental within biking distance of Jughead’s office, and once that was settled, Betty was off. There was almost no time to enjoy her newly minted engagement, basking in the joy of her friends and family for just a few days before taking the first flight to Bangkok.

 

In true Jughead fashion, her fiance had sent her off with a lovely kiss and promises to have the nest ready for her return. “Like a good future-husband,” he grinned, swallowing Betty’s laughter with a kiss.

 

And Bangkok . . . what an adventure. Days had bled together, and inconsistent working hours really took a toll on Betty’s time-management skills. She met so many people, ate so many new things, sent home jars of fermented fish paste, curries, prawn crackers, and fresh herbs (much to Jughead’s delight), and wrote some of the most amazing testimonials.

 

It felt good, knowing that her articles were reaching the masses and bringing awareness to the ongoing concerns of international refugees.

 

But she missed Jughead. She missed the home they were both going to live in even though she had only seen it through a computer screen.

 

And those three  _ amazing _ months felt so much longer than the four years of university they had to endure.

 

After Thailand, Betty had requested local assignments, at least until the honeymoon. 

 

The following months were spent in transition. Betty had to relearn how to live in the U.S. Relearn how to share space with someone she loved (who was a little more of a clutter-bug than herself). As she re-acclimated herself to the privileges of western civilization, Jughead had to acclimate himself to sharing their home with another person . . . which was surprisingly hard after three months of being the only living thing in the house.

 

Their first joint decision? A tabby cat rescue with a bite taken out of her left ear. She had a lovely collection of dark yellow spots along her legs, and Jughead had immediately dubbed her “Dijon.”

 

“Like the mustard? I’m sensing a theme here.”

 

“Well, it’s that or ‘Lil’ Weiner’ which doesn’t seem to suit her as well. Eh, Dijon?”

 

Dijon refrained from responding, staring out of her pet-carrier.

 

It turned out that Dijon wasn’t much of a people-cat. She crept from room to room, stared at people from high perches, and generally only approaching Betty or Jughead when her food bowl was empty.

 

They both loved her dearly.

 

Once Betty was completely established in Massachusetts, it was time to really plan. Spring or Winter wedding? Wedding in Riverdale or in Massachusetts? Inside or outside? Open or closed bar?

 

As fun as joint planning was, Jughead eventually pulled the neutrality card and left the decision-making to Betty. Which was just as well. He had planned the proposal with her brother Chic; she could plan a wedding with her sister Polly.

 

In the end, it was all a no-brainer. The wedding ceremony would be small, close family and friends, at a small church in Riverdale. The wedding reception would take place at Pops, where everyone with or without a wedding invitation was welcome to attend. It would take place in January, when the air smelled and tasted the cleanest, like a blank slate for Betty and Jughead to start their new relationship fresh. Polly and Gladys worked with Pops to incorporate bunches of violets, purple roses, winter jasmines, and sweet alyssums into the decor, while Betty and her mom planned the small ceremony. Jughead did his part in whittling down the guest list, insisting on making Archie his best man, and taking the initiative to ask the redhead himself. 

 

(Archie was a sobbing mess, but of course, he said yes.)

 

Betty, Veronica, Jughead, and his friend Kareem did a full day of cake testing. They had already known that they were fine with a chocolate and vanilla tiered cake, but it didn’t stop them from trying every flavor available. Betty had a blast watching Kareem joke around with Jughead while making grand gestures to impress Ronnie.

 

All in all, the planning stages were fairly simple. They weren’t interested in expensive venues or grand catering events. Keeping it close to the people they loved, made it all seem too easy.

 

The night before, disregarding all pre-wedding customs, Jughead and Betty absconded themselves in a hotel:  _ their  _ hotel, relaxing in a bath covered in warm bubbles. Leaning back against Jughead’s chest, Betty felt almost serene while Jughead slowly demolished a plate of chocolate covered strawberries, pineapples, and--oddly enough--potato chips.

 

They didn’t really talk much: there was no need. Neither felt any sort of apprehension on this next bit milestone in their lives. Jughead assured her that he pretty much knew back in highschool that this was it for him. They already lived together. They shared emergency contacts, a cell phone contract, and health insurance (like real adults!).

 

As important as this was, it was a small step in the grand scheme of things.

 

“We even already have a kid.”

 

“Dijon is  _ not  _ a child.”

 

“She’s our fur-baby. That is apparently a term that actual people use.”

 

Last night was their opportunity to relax. Weddings were meant for family: the night before was for them.

 

And now it was time.

 

Taking a deep breath, Betty smoothed her hand over the soft, satin folds of her skirt. Veronica’s wedding gift to her was, of course, her wedding dress. The brunette had completely scoffed at Betty’s comments, insisting that Betty had complete control over what design she wanted, but price would be no issue. Which of course led to various visits to bridal boutiques where the prices were all conveniently hidden from her. 

 

So Betty wasn’t very sure what the price of her dress was, or even who the designer was. She was just as happy to pick up a dress from consignment and tailor it to her specifications . . . but as her eyes trailed along the long, lace sleeves along her arms, the modest A-line, low-cut back, and buttery-soft train tumbling behind her, Betty didn’t imagine that her own design would be nearly as lovely as this. For some finishing touches, Ronnie had allowed Betty to borrow a pair of sapphire stud earrings, and a diamond pendant to pin back her waves of freshly curled hair.

 

Her mother kept her makeup simple: eyeliner, barely-there cobalt eyeshadow, mascara, and a dark pink lip stain. 

 

She felt like a princess.

 

“You better not start crying, Betty Cooper, or I will wring your neck.” Veronica marched into the room, her heels a sharp staccato in the previously silent room. Her slate blue maxi moved along her long legs like water, fully amplifying her elegance. Not a bad bridesmaid dress choice if Betty did say so herself. Veronica’s dress was unique in that it was slightly darker than the others, signifying her role as maid of honor.

 

“I’m not crying,” Betty took another deep breath. “I’m just . . .”

 

“You’re just  _ what _ ? The answer better be  _ ‘not crying _ .’” Veronica ran her hands over Betty’s hips, fixing some kind of invisible flaw until she was happy enough with the placement. “Ugh, who would have thought that out of the two of us,  _ you’d _ be the first to get married.”

 

Ooo. Betty was going to try her damnedest not to cry. “Veronica.”

 

“And that Jughead Jones was your soul mate the entire time? Some girls have all the luck.” 

 

Betty laughed. It was so strange hearing that from one of the most successful, rich, and glamourous women in the world. “I really love you.”

 

Veronica softened at that, straightening up to brush her hands along Betty’s neck and shoulders, adjusting curls as she went. “I love you, too.”

 

Unable to restrain herself, Betty pulled Ronnie into a hug, basking in her best friend’s support. Veronica melted, immediately bringing her own arms tight around Betty’s waist. “Ugh, it’s going to be so weird. After today, I can’t call you Betty Cooper anymore.”

 

“Actually,” Betty giggled into Veronica’s shoulder. “Juggie offered to hyphenate our last names, or even take mine.”

 

Veronica pulled back with an arched brow. “Wait. So . . . Jughead  _ Cooper _ ? That’s . . . just as weird to get used to.”

 

“Or Cooper-Jones or Jones-Cooper.”

 

“Hm . . .” Ronnie seemed to seriously consider it. “My vote is for Cooper-Jones. Even Jughead Cooper-Jones sounds better than JUST Jughead Cooper.”

 

“Would you believe that Jughead agrees with you?”

 

“Well, duh. Of course he does.” Squeezing Betty’s side, Veronica winked at her. “I mean he was able to snag you. The boy possesses  _ some  _ common sense.”

 

“Excuse you, Miss Veronica Lodge. That’s my husband you’re talking about.”

 

Veronica didn’t respond right away, her head tilting in a way to show that the gears were really turning. Betty smiled at her, willing to wait her out.

 

After another few seconds, Veronica sighed. “Now, even I have to admit,  _ that  _ sounds right.”

 

It took a moment for Betty to catch on, but once she did, her smile felt painfully wide.

 

_ My husband. _

 

It felt right to say.

 

A light knock against the doorway, brought their attention to Betty’s father, who was waiting patiently by the exit. Hal was dressed simply in a sharp black suit, steel gray tie, and a small bunch of sweet alyssums pinned to his chest. Betty nearly teared up again just looking at the pride and joy on his face. 

 

“Pulled the short straw, so I’m the lucky one to let you guys know that it’s almost time. You girls all set?”

 

“As well as a perfectly baked Pumpkin Pie,” Betty declared, making Veronica both snort and roll her eyes. 

 

“Yes, Mr. Cooper. The star of the show is as ready as she’ll ever be.” Reaching over, she carefully lifted the delicate lacing of Betty’s veil. “Would you like to do the honors of the final touch?”

 

Clearing his throat, Hal seemed incapable of responding, but he was quick to step into the room, easily taking the veil in hand and bringing it carefully up and over Betty’s hair and face. Even through the sheet of white patterns, Betty could smell her father’s cologne as he adjusted the veil before offering his elbow. “You ready, little girl?”

 

“Yes, Daddy. I’m ready.” Threading her arm through his, Betty felt grounded for the first time that day, confident that her father’s strength would take her exactly where she wanted to be. Growing up, she was always conscious of how  _ fortunate  _ she was to have such a supportive father. Betty knew that she was definitely a handful in her younger years, fluctuating between her love for Archie and her, frankly, tomboyish tendencies. But he always supported her fleeting interests and deep-rooted hobbies. He was definitely a big part of what made her the confident woman she was today, and Betty would always,  _ always _ be grateful for him.

 

After a quick snap with her phone, Veronica made a quick exit while Betty and her father slowly followed along, the sounds of their closest family and friends getting louder with each step. 

 

It was hard to focus on just one thing. The echos of their steps, the surreal brightness of the sun amplified by white snow, the incense soaked into the walls of the chapel, and the buzzing excitement of the bridesmaids and their escorts. Betty’s heart felt full to burst, and it was almost too much when her father pressed one lasting kiss against her temple before the doors into the chapel opened.

 

Without thought, Betty’s eyes focused ahead, by the altar where Jughead stood, Archie and Kareem by his side. She immediately laughed, spotting Jughead’s long-absent whoopie cap placed artfully over his carefully combed hair.

 

Jughead’s face immediately eased into a smile, color high on his cheeks as soon as she was in sight. Dressed in a black suit, lavender bow tie, with a single purple rose pinned to his chest, he was impossible to look away from, and Betty found herself grateful that her father was leading the way.

 

Surely, if she were tasked with walking down the aisle herself, she would simply fail to function. Was it possible to be  _ this happy _ ?

 

Jughead’s shoulders seemed to straighten with each step Betty took towards him, barely shifting when Archie threw a few solid pats into his back. The intensity of his gaze, along with everyone else’s suddenly began to register, a blush beginning to burn at Betty’s cheeks. 

 

They were nearly to the altar, just a few more steps to go, before Jughead broke rank, taking the steps in a long leap before stopping before Betty and Hal. Betty could feel her father’s laugther along her arm, as he shook Jughead’s hand and formally relinquished Betty to her husband-to-be. 

 

“You take good care of my daughter, Jughead. I’m counting on you.”

 

“We’ll take good care of each other, sir.” Jughead promised, nodding at Hal before gently sliding his arm around Betty’s shoulders. 

 

Betty nearly melted against him as he pressed himself along her right side, taking her right hand into his, and leaving her left hand to gather her skirts for the few steps up.

 

At the top, they finally met with the patiently waiting preacher, his smile warm as they reoriented themselves. Jughead’s fingers twitched at the ends of her veil, leaning forward almost unconsciously. “You look beautiful, Betty.”

 

“Thank you,” she beamed. “You look amazing.”

 

They seemed compelled to lean closer together, which was just a little embarrassing when Kareem literally had to reach out to yank Jughead back into a standing position, a safe distance from the kissing zone. The audience rang out with laughter, while Betty struggled to manage her embarrassed smile.

 

Clearing his throat, the priest motioned everyone to calm down. After a moment, he clasped his hands together, bible tucked under his arm. “ We gather here to unite these two people in marriage--”

 

Betty felt Jughead’s fingers cradle her hands. Flexing her own hands, she quietly laced them together.

 

And in slow increments, everyone else faded away.

 

It was just them.

 

Betty and Jughead.

 

Wife and Husband.

 

Forever and ever.

* * *

 

[Word Count: 2,582]

AN: One more chapter to go!

Betty’s Wedding Dress:  [ https://goo.gl/G45Xu6 ](https://goo.gl/G45Xu6)

Bridesmaid Dresses:  [ https://goo.gl/ghysWg ](https://goo.gl/ghysWg)

Tumblr handle: 1sleepydormouse  
Instagram: @pepper_sauce

 


	50. Chapter 50

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wise men say only fools rush in  
> But I can't help falling in love with you

**** Rolling out her shoulders, Nancy looked up at her work with a feeling of pride. It’s been  _ years _ since she had to roll back her sleeves to decorate a gymnasium of all places, but it brought plenty feelings of nostalgia. So many cheer practices, school dances, and a few poorly directed plays. She felt strangely at home, yet ill-fitted in the massive space. 

 

Awards and banners for games and championships that spanned beyond her own graduation just hit the fact home. Riverdale had continued to live on, cultivating younger generations after their own tearful goodbyes. It was still their gym, but it now had memories from complete strangers. 

 

Nancy hoped that the kids today thought fondly of their days at Riverdale like she did.

 

“Coming down anytime soon, babe? People are starting to come in.”

 

Glancing down, Nancy smiled at Ginger Lopez. “I’m on my way down. Just keep a solid hold on the ladder.”

 

“Like I’m going to let you fall!” Ginger laughed, sliding her hand up Nancy’s back as she slowly descended. “What kind of girlfriend do you think I am?”

 

“One that works out regularly,” Nancy squeezed Ginger’s bicep before dropping a quick thank-you kiss to her cheek.

 

About to take the last few steps down from the ladder, Nancy just happened to look up at the entrance of the gymnasium and nearly stumbled. 

 

Social media was a glorious thing. Nancy honestly wasn’t sure how people kept up with friend before the dawning of social apps and smartphones. She knew that  _ she  _ would be one of the guilty many, who allowed distance, time, and  _ life _ to be an excuse for not picking up the phone or sending a letter. But that was, fortunately, not the case.

 

Since graduation . . .

 

Since jobs . . .

 

Since moves and Betty and Jughead’s wedding, Nancy was satisfied to know that she knew a little bit about everyone’s lives. Valerie was no longer with Archie, breaking away from The Pussycats to work full-time as a highly-demanded songwriter. Midge and Moose seemed to be together? They both featured sometimes in each other’s photos but never consecutively, which Nancy figured would be an interesting story for the reunion.

 

Veronica’s face seemed to be  _ everywhere _ . News websites, ads, television and radio interviews. Keeping up with her business and relationships was easy for  _ anyone _ to keep up with. Only those on her private social media page saw the intimate photos of Veronica with her fiancee, sharing meals with her family, and spontaneous visits to Betty’s home.

 

And Betty!

 

Nancy’s breath was taken away as she watched Betty Cooper-Jones walk into the gymnasium, laughing as she signed in at the table. Jughead Cooper-Jones was close behind her, a soft smile on his face while his hands carefully caressed the precious cargo strapped to his chest.

 

The announcement, the pictures of Betty’s pregnancy, and the inevitable birth of Elaine Cooper-Jones was proudly outlined on social media.

 

Nancy thought that it would prepare her for just how  _ lovely _ and glowing the family looked.

 

She was very,  _ very  _ wrong.

 

* * *

_ Shall I stay?  
_ _ Would it be a sin  
_ __ If I can't help falling in love with you?

* * *

 

Surprising everyone, Dilton and Cheryl married first.

 

During Dilton’s junior year of college, he had asked Cheryl over the phone if she was interested in possibly marrying him sometime in the future.

 

“Sometime in the future” ended up meaning during their Spring Break, when the two of them went to the courthouse for an official ceremony. Moose and Cheryl’s twin brother Jason served as witnesses.

 

Surprising everyone, Cheryl didn’t tell anyone until the summer before senior year, when everyone happened to be in Riverdale for the same weekend. 

 

“Oh, by the way. Dilton has been my husband for a few months already, but we still want to have a ceremony to have you guys celebrate our  _ glorious union.  _ Does sometime in June work for you all?”

 

Dilton basked in all of the shock and genuine congratulations, feeling very much like the successful “nerd” that got the school, pretty-girl at the end of every Hollywood movie.

 

It wasn’t until the two of them actually moved in together, that Dilton realized that he had it all wrong. More than anything, Cheryl took every social opportunity to show off her new ring and new husband. The ring was simple, something that even he could afford, so he never did understood why it was such a point of pride for a woman who literally had everything she wanted.

 

But, Cheryl was forthright with her feelings, and her consideration of Dilton. She was a guilty of putting him on a pedistal just has he was of her. Dilton felt so  _ fortunate _ that Cheryl loved him. It was a bit novel to realize that Cheryl Blossom felt just as fortunate to be loved by him.

 

That look was reflected on Jughead’s face, a baby strapped to his chest, hand in his pocket, and slightly slouching as he followed Betty into the gymnasium. Over 23 years later, and things were still the same. 

 

Tightening his hold on Cheryl’s waist, Dilton lead them both towards the awaiting family. “Hey, guys! Glad you could make it!”

 

Betty smiled, folding herself into Cheryl’s exuberant hug. “Oh, it was touch-and-go there for a moment. Elaine was not a happy-camper on our way here.”

 

All four pairs of eyes gravitated towards the young infant, contentedly strapped to her father’s chest: socked feet hanging in the air, fists wrapped tightly in Jughead’s blazer, and a binky suctioned between lips. Whisps of thick black hair framed soft, chubby cheeks and vivid blue eyes, glued to the Cheryl’s red hair.

 

Dilton understood the sentiment.

 

“Well, Elaine.” Cheryl leaned forward, offering her hand. “It is a pleasure to finally meet your adorable, chubby cheeks in person.”

 

Elaine hesitated for a moment before releasing one death-grip on her father’s clothing before reaching out to wrap fingers tightly around two of Cheryl’s.

 

Dilton watched his wife practically melt before she gently shook their hands up and down. “It’s lovely to meet you.”

 

Like magic, Dilton watched as Jughead brought his hand up just in time to catch the binky as Elaine released it without a second thought. Before he could ask if Jughead had gained some kind of baby mind-reading powers, the child simply brought their joined hands up, latching her gums around the knuckle of Cheryl’s finger.

 

They laughed as Cheryl began to squirm.

 

“Oh . . . lovely.”

 

Jughead shrugged, running his fingers through Elaine’s baby-fine hair. “She isn’t teething yet, so it’s not too bad. Baby slobber is much easier to clean up than all the other stuff this child ejects.”

 

Laughing, Dilton shared a smile with Betty. “Looks like you guys are doing great. Congratulations again on your first child.”

 

Jughead puffed his chest in pride. “The two of us read every child-rearing book we could get ahold of before she was born. Shouldn’t have bothered. She’s been pretty great. Stinks sometimes and cries at weird hours, but she’s been very good.”

 

Cheryl tilted her head, seemingly resigned to the systematic drooling of her entire hand. “She was much fatter in your pictures online.”

 

“Oh yes,” Betty grinned. “Jughead was a very big baby himself, so I was prepared to some extent. Her arms and legs looked like  _ bread rolls. _ ”

 

“Betty forbade me from naming her Honey Bun.”

 

All four adults burst into laughter, causing Elaine’s legs to kick out in content joy.

 

* * *

_ Like a river flows surely to the sea  
_ _ Darling so it goes _

* * *

 

Walking cane in hand, Bernice Beazley sat in one of the school’s plastic chairs. Even after retirement, she tried her best to attend as many of these reunions as possible, fondly remembering all of the ungrateful children she served during her tenure at Riverdale High. 

 

Well, not all of them were ungrateful.

 

Her attention was completely focused on the small group of reunion attendees near the refreshments table, men and women cooing over the precious infant strapped to one of her most favorite students ever. 

 

Time had been very kind to Jughead. While Beazley distinctly remembered that he tended to look very indifferent until he was faced with a tray of food, it was very heart-warming to see him look so happy and content as more of his friends came to speak to him, taking a tiny square of cloth from his blazer pocket every once in a while to wipe at his daughter’s glistening chin.

 

The boy--no, man--was practically glowing, keeping a hand at the small of his wife’s back, Betty Cooper, if her memory served correctly. Beazley remembered the two of them being friends for most of their time at Riverdale. It wasn’t until the last year that anything seemed to change between the two.

 

Betty pulled a friend into a tight hug, talking animatedly before pulling back to check on Jughead and their child. As if sensing her attention, Jughead looked away from his own conversation, silently offering up a cheek for Betty to drop a kiss before the two of them continued on.

 

Beazley smiled. She wasn’t a Riverdale graduate, but she loved these events all the same.

 

* * *

_ Some things are meant to be  
_ _ Take my hand, take my whole life too _

* * *

 

Archie watched Betty and Jughead for a moment, fully prepared for the ugly grip of jealousy as Betty carefully took their baby into her arms, nuzzling her nose against the infant’s cheeks. The baby giggled, arms and legs waving wildly as her father kept a supportive hand against her back. Jughead folded away the baby harness into the baby bag at his shoulder before taking the plate of finger foods Betty offered to him in passing, dropping a kiss to her hair before shoving a meatball into his face.

 

The jealousy never came.

 

The sight of the three of them being a family . . . it felt right. Even from this distance, he could see that over 23 years of being together did little to dull the obvious love that they shared.

 

Jughead was still deeply in love with Betty.

 

Betty was still deeply in love with Jughead.

 

Both of them were deeply,  _ deeply _ in love with the little human they had made together.

 

The jealously never came.

 

And it was very easy to just be happy for them.

 

Would wonders never cease?

 

“Archikins.”

 

Glancing away from Jughead’s meticulous destruction of his plate, Archie smiled as Veronica approached, glass of wine in both hands. She offered one to Archie, which he happily took. “Ronnie. Lookin’ good.”

 

“Like always,” she smiled. Her dark hair was cropped up to her shoulders and fell in softly scented waves around her neck. Hard-earned success looked good on her. “It has been a long time.”

 

Archie smiled, shrugging a little. “Being a small-label music producer has been keeping me busy. But, I’m happy. Busy, but happy.”

 

“Busy, but happy,” Veronica repeated, her eyes moving back to Betty and Jughead, a soft smile on her face. “The story of my life.”

 

Taking a sip of his drink, Archie nodded towards them. “You were there for the baby’s birth?”

 

“Elaine,” Veronica smiled. “And, yes. Betty turned down my offer of a highly-recommended doula, so it was up to me to make sure that her and her husband didn’t give themselves heart attacks at the thought of becoming parents.”

 

Laughing, Archie could imagine how two very successful adults could still be terrified by the thought of parenthood. But looking at them now, he could see that they were absolutely  _ great _ at it.

 

They were great together.

 

They were meant to be.

 

“Well,” Betty offered her hand. “You ready to go see our best friends?”

 

“Yeah . . . I’m ready.” Tucking Veronica’s hand in the crook of his elbow, he lead her across the gymnasium.

 

The jealousy never came.

 

* * *

_ For I can't help falling in love with you _

* * *

 

[Word Count: 1,963]

AN: Yeahhh . . . I realize that the whole Nancy/Ginger relationship, while indeed part of the comic-verse, is not part of the  _ canon _ comic-verse. But I love me some interracial bisexual relationships.

 

And that is the end of  _ Playlist Amour _ . I have to say that posting this chapter was both very hard for me to do, and extremely cathartic. This fic would not have reached completion without the passionate support of the  _ Archie _ comic and  _ Riverdale _ fandom and I want to thank you all for sticking with me though this! Chatting with you all on ff.net, Ao3, and Tumblr has been an AMAZING experience, and because of you guys, I have really come to appreciate Betty Cooper and Jughead Jones.

 

I had a lovely time getting to know these characters as a writer, and I hope I did them all justice.  _ Archie Comics  _ helped me through my awkward elementary school stages, and these characters were my friends (despite my unfortunate puberty changes, braces, and AWESOME headgear).

 

I wish I could give you all huge hugs for the support you’ve given me. You are all the best, and make this fandom WONDERFUL.

 

Songlist for Chapters 41-50:

  1. “Down” - Marian Hill
  2. “Feels like Summer” - Weezer
  3. “Collar Full” - Panic! At the Disco
  4. Old Dominion
  5. “Heaven” - Warrant
  6. “Graduation (Friends Forever)” - Vitamin C
  7. “Ain’t It Fun” - Paramore
  8. “Little of Your Love” - Haim
  9. “Snowfall” - Ingrid Michaelson
  10. “Can’t Help Falling in Love” - Elvis Presley



Tumblr handle: 1sleepydormouse

Instagram: @pepper_sauce


End file.
